


In every reality, I reach for you (Klance AU month prompts)

by EnlacingLines



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Practical Magic Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia), Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Character Death, Characters play D&D, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galaxy Garrison, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Misunderstandings, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pining Lance (Voltron), References to Depression, Sirens, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-20 09:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 67,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17620214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: Stories inspired the Klance AU month prompts.New tags added with the chapters.





	1. Day 1: Coffee shop

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the Klance AU month prompts! I'll try and keep up best I can with each day. 
> 
> This is unbetad (sorry) so please do let me know if there are any ridiculous mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Okay… so… buddy, what the hell happened?”

Lance groaned, pausing mid cleaning as Pidge practically collapsed on the counter in a fit of laughter, while Hunk looked more and more bemused. It had been 3 days since the incident, 3 days of Pidge being practically incapable of containing her laughter when it was mentioned, so much so that when they’d tried to explain it all to Hunk on his return to work, they’d barely been able to get out a sentence before giving up and giggling. 

Lance sighed, glancing around the coffee shop before picking up discarded mugs and placing them back on the counter with a meaningful look at Pidge. They recovered enough to roll their eyes and pick them up, turning towards the sink, shoulders shaking intermittently as they did. 

“Well?” Hunk asked gently. Lance leaned over the counter, his head dropping down completely. It was the dead hours of Sunday mid-morning, only a few scatterings of students buried in laptops and one table of professional looking people holding a meeting with lots of papers. He had time to explain the whole dire exchange to his best friend. 

“So I may have done the whole cliché hitting on someone...”

“AHEM.”

Lance lifted his head to glare at Pidge, who glared just as fiercely back. They won. 

Lance turned back to Hunk’s far more sympathetic face and continued: “I may have done the whole cliché hitting on… _Keith_ by writing on a coffee cup.”

Hunk’s face had moved from concerned, to exasperated to delighted. Lance felt himself grimace. Had he really been that bad at this whole thing that Hunk was proud when he made a move using a  _coffee cup?!_

“About time you actually did something, buddy!” He exclaimed, thumping Lance none too gently on the shoulder. Lance winced and laughed awkwardly. Before he could say much else, a voice echoed across the room. 

“Finish the whole story, Lance,” Pidge said, still glaring but now the edges of a smile threatened, and Lance swallowed. He turned back to Hunk. 

“Only…I gave it to the wrong person.” 

Silence. Then howling laughter and Hunk’s scaldalised voice yelling

“YOU DID WHAT?”

 

#~#~#

 

The problematic coffee cup incident was proceeded by almost a year of dealing with Keith Kogane from afar. He’d noticed Keith during his first week of University, purely because he’d noticed his awful mullet and finger less gloves (what was that style? Can’t event be called a style, it’s a monstrosity… that Lance really likes, this crush is RIDICULOUS) and that he seemed to be in a fair few of the same places Lance was during freshers. He’d catch a flash of red across campus and be searching for a creased leather jacket and bad haircut before he’d even registered what was happening. There was something fascinating about him and as Lance’s curiosity piqued, he realised Keith must have been taking a similar course to him. They were half the same classes, and had chosen the same option as their free study. 

He also discovered Keith was brilliant. Incredibly, effortlessly intelligent that caused Lance to be both in awe and slightly jealous of him. Lance had always been one of the best in his hometown, but moving to university had been a shock to the system. The best of the best were now all in one room, those who had Lance out stripped and out mastered by far. But Lance didn’t give up; he’d worked hard to get here and would continue to work hard now he’d arrived. So much so, that he started to measure his scores against Keith’s. They actually performed to a fairly similar level, one outdoing the other by one essay, then the other by a test or presentation. It kept Lance motivated in a weird way, and each time Keith was called on to answer a question in a seminar, Lance would stay attuned to his answer, wondering what conclusions he’d made from the material and what he would have said in Keith’s place. 

Half way through the year, Lance was cash strapped enough, but used to his course workload to know he could manage a job and his studies at the same time. Hunk already had the job at the local independent coffee shop, and recommended Lance immediately. It was actually a lot of fun; his hours fitted around classes, he worked with his best friend and he loved talking to people. They met Pidge through work, and the three of them were soon fast friends. 

The bonus? Keith came here for his coffee. Every day, without fail, he tuned up between 8am and 9am in search of a long black to which he’d add, to Lance’s horror, a disgusting amount of sugar and wander back out as if half asleep the whole time. 

The first time he’d walked in and zombied his way to the counter, Lance had promptly spilt milk all over his hand. Pidge, their radar permanently set to ‘anything that can make Lance’s life a misery’ noticed in an instant. 

“Who's that?” They asked, gesturing at Keith, who honestly might have been asleep standing up as he appeared to have his eyes closed. 

“Umm... Keith. He’s in my class.”

Pidge’s eyes lit up into mischief mode immediately. 

“Keiiithhhh eh,” they replied, eyeing him for the whole time Hunk made his drink, and watched Keith take the cup and leave. Hunk returned, seeming confused and concerned as to why Lance was still covered in milk and Pidge looked like someone had given them a key to the universe. 

“So how long have you been crushing on emo boy, Lance?”

Hunk snorted. Lance dropped the rest of the milk on the floor.

 

#~#~#

 

Keith left his notebook in class once. He seemed in a hurry to leave their seminar, the plain black notebook still sitting on the desk, the only reminder it had ever been occupied. Lance snatched it up as soon as he noticed, running out of the building and narrowly avoiding bashing into 3 people in the process. He stepped out into the sun, scanning for a familiar mullet. Spotting it by the road, he grinned, running flat out and yelling Keith’s name as he did. 

Keith started, turning. He looked alarmed as Lance skidded to a halt in front of him (which in hindsight was probably not his most dazzling moment, running full pelt waving a notebook). 

“Here,” Lance exhaled, handing over Keith’s book, trying to catch his breath. 

Keith stared Lance up and down for a moment, then a small almost secret smile appeared. Lance’s eyes widened. Keith took the notebook. 

“Thank you.” 

Then, without another word, he turned and continued walking, putting the notebook back in his bag as he did. Lance stared after, the soft and quiet way he said those 2 words echoing on repeat for the next few days. 

  


#~#~#

 

Lance managed to chew through his pen during one lecture, ink spilling over his hands and jeans in an instant. He stared dumbly at the mess for a moment, watching it spread and shape in horror, not knowing how to deal with this in the middle of a crowded lecture hall. He’d been late as it was, jumping into the first seat he’d seen just as the professor began talking. 

He stared at his inked hands, holding them frailly in front of him as to not get anything else covered in blue, which was going to be almost impossible seeing as his hands were probably permanently dyed the colour now. 

It was then he heard a snort, and a white shape was thrust in front of him. He turned to his left and saw Keith, of all people, grinning and holding out a handful of tissues. Lance felt his face turn to fire but he smiled and mouthed his thanks as he set to cleaning up his hands and lap as best he could. 

When he looked up there was another pen neatly placed on the small table in front of him, but Keith was looking in boredom at the professor with his arms crossed, as if he’d never moved.

 

#~#~#

 

Lance had scored the top mark in his latest test. He grinned to himself as he checked the score board one more time, pride spreading from his toes to his heart, a glowing layer of happiness and acknowledgement of all the hard work he’d put into this. Also, Keith’s latest test score was 2 points less than his. A small thing, but he’d been below in the last round, and as his nominated rival, Lance had to keep a tally. 

He almost jumped as said mullet haired individual had crept up beside him, silent and sneaky. He watched as Keith found his name, and clocked the score. Then, he turned to Lance. Lance blanched at being caught so obviously staring, but didn’t look away. Keith’s eyes, he realised, were almost violet in colour, reflecting light patterns and drawing you into their dark edges at the same time. Unique. And pretty. 

“Good work,” Keith said, gesturing to the list. Lance’s eyes widened and his face flushed, stammering out a garbled thanks, and something along the lines of ‘you too’ but it may have come out ‘woo boo’ in the mess that Lance’s brain to mouth filter seemed to be in that moment. 

Then, without another word, Keith sent him that same secret smile as he did before, turned and walked away. Lance stood for a moment, watching the space where he’d been, wondering what that smile meant this time.

 

#~#~#

 

“You know…you could try and talk to him, rather than just staring, silently competing with him for grades and pining out here by the espresso machine?” Hunk suggested one morning as he showed Lance how to make latte art. 

Lance spluttered. “I am NOT pining! I do not pine, and especially not for a mullet like that. Besides, he’s my rival.” 

“Does he know he’s your rival? He doesn’t seem to notice you when he comes in here,” Pidge answered for Hunk, walking by with more bags of coffee grounds. 

Lance spun around, hands on hips in defiance. 

“Of course he does! How could he not notice this?” he said with his trade mark grin, gesturing downwards. 

He was expecting the usual eye rolling Pidge usually graced that type of talk with, but instead they smiled. That evil master mind smile that could haunt the bravest souls. Lance shivered. 

“Well, here’s your chance,” they said, gesturing behind them. Lance turned his head slowly, knowing exactly what he’d see. Low and behold, an extremely sleepy Keith stood at the register, looking slightly bemused as if he wasn’t sure how he’d got there. 

_Cute_ , Lance’s brain supplied unhelpfully, and he gulped as Hunk gave him a thumbs up. Feeling as if his feet had suddenly turned to led, he dragged himself towards the register, thankful he was having a good hair day today. 

His palms had started to sweat, which was ridiculous as this was Keith, and he had no need to be nervous, let alone feeling that if he opened his mouth he might either throw up or confess how pretty his eyes were to the entire room. 

So Lance swallowed plastered his best smile on his face and said, “Morning, Keith. What can I get you?” 

In response Keith literally jumped, his whole body jolting like it received a jumpstart with Lance’s address. 

“Long black. To go. Please.” 

Words were apparently hard for Keith right now. Lance could sympathise. 

“Coming right up!” he chirped happily, looking over his shoulder to see Hunk already preparing the drink. He turned back to see Keith glaring at him suspiciously. It was quite a look, and Lance immediately felt on edge. 

“Who are you?” 

He heard the unmistakable sound of a choked off laughed behind him and dammit, he was going to kill Pidge after this. 

“You know my name,” Keith said, obviously feeling like he needed to elaborate, as if his first question hadn’t shocked Lance enough in the first place. 

“Uhh, the names Lance? We are in, like, 5 classes together? You gave me your pen one time? Always completing for grades? Plus dude, I make your coffee like 4 times a week!” 

He realised he’d started babbling half way through but seriously? Did Keith really not know who he was? He’d literally congratulated him on his test scores a few weeks ago, and smiled at him. How could he not remember? 

Keith was still looking confused and adorably sleepy, which was not helped Lance at all. 

“Do we? I don’t remember seeing you…or competing with anyone…” he dissolved into mumbling and Lance honestly felt himself drain of any adrenaline rush talking to Keith had given him. Could he really be that forgettable? He answered a fair amount of questions in class, perhaps not as precisely as Keith, but they were always well received. And their names were always next to each other on results sheets. Always. 

How could Keith not have noticed? Lance felt his cheeks grow hot, shame and sadness pressing down on his shoulders. Was it really only just him who had noticed Keith? Were those few moments they had recently nothing at all, and Lance’s stupid crushing brain had blown them out of proportion?

Mechanically, he turned to Hunk and took the now made drink, handing it over to Keith with a smile. Keith took it, and looked at the cup as if he didn’t know what it was for. Then he seemed to snap back to it. He looked up. 

“Thank you…errr…”

“Lance,” he muttered, and Keith nodded, before turning and stumbling to the door. Lance signed and turned around to see Pidge still grinning and Hunk giving him a consoling look. 

“If it helps man, I don’t think he really knew where he was. Dude always looks like he just stumbled out of bed.” 

It didn’t help, but Lance thanked him anyway.

 

#~#~#

 

Lance had obviously been reading too much into the whole thing, and was resolved to let it go. Or at least, he had been until the following Wednesday after class. He’d been late, again, and had spent the first five minutes catching up with the lesson. Class seemed to pass in a daze after that, his brain stumbling to both wake up an catch up. 

He’d still been in somewhat or a blur of charts and lists when someone stepped out in front of him. 

“Hey, you’re in my class right?” 

Lance blinked. Keith was right there before him, arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but Lance. 

_Really_ ? Lance thought internally, but he said “Err…yeah. The one that just finished.” 

Keith shuffled his feet and finally looked at Lance, who was surprised to see a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“I missed the lecture…could I borrow your notes before next week?” 

_What. The. Hell. Is. Happening?_

“Um, sure. We have a seminar on Monday, is it okay to pass them on then?” 

Keith nodded, looking away again and mumbling a thank you before walking off very quickly. Lance just stood there, feeling completely and utterly confused.

 

#~#~#

 

The next morning, Lance was working on the register when Keith came in. He looked just as sleepy as usual, and gave Lance no acknowledgement whatsoever. Hunk was away until the weekend, so Pidge was making the drinks while Lance served. 

“One long black and one caramel latte to go.” 

Lance nodded, wondering absently who Keith was ordering for, deviating from his normal drink order. 

Later, he’d blame a lack of sleep and too much sugar (they’d had a delivery of pastries that morning and hey, staff perks) so early in the day, but after having scribbled down the name of the drinks on each take away cup, his brain flashed to the cute stories he’d seen on instagram of a girl in his class whose barista boyfriend left notes on her cup. Quickly, before he could loose his nerve, wrote on the cup, made the drinks and put them into a travel box for Keith. 

It was only as he watched in disgust as Keith poured his customary mountain of sugar into his cup and turned to walk out that Lance noticed the side of the cup looked oddly bare. His mind and body stuttered to a halt as he realised with horror his message was on the caramel latte, not the long black. 

The panic suddenly caught up to him and he swore, running quickly out of the door to the surprise of Pidge who was still making orders. But by the time he got outside, Keith was nowhere to be seen.

 

# # #

 

“And that was 3 days ago. He hasn’t been in since,” Lance finished miserably. Hunk slung an arm around him, squeezing him into his side. 

“Dude, I’m sorry.”

“Lance?” Pidge suddenly called from near the register, but he ignored them. It was always dead at this time, they could handle it for 5 minutes.

“I can't believe I messed up the cups, how stupid was that?” he whined, head sinking back down. Hunk patted his head absently as Lance relived his inevitable humiliation and rejection. 

“LANCE!” Pidge called again and he groaned. Hunk’s hand stilled on his hair. 

“Can you deal with whatever they want for me? I need to wallow for a minute.” 

Hunk was quiet above him, and just as Lance was wondering if the dark cave of his arms was comfy enough for a power nap, Hunk spoke.

“I think you’d better go over there, Lance.”

Lance lifted his head, pouting dramatically at Hunk, only to see him turned towards Pidge. Reluctantly Lance turned only to see not one, but two people looking in his direction. 

In front of Pidge, waiting in the otherwise semi deserted shop, was Keith. He was looking over at Lance, stupid pretty hair and stupid red jacket in place as usual. Lance straightened immediately, almost hitting Hunk in the face as he did so. 

Lance was nothing if not an excellent actor, so put a sway in his step as made the short walk over, trying to exude confidence he did not feel as his heart pounded annoyingly in his chest, and his stomach whirled in apprehension of what would happen next. As he approached, Keith produced a small white disposable coffee cup, shaking it slowly from side to side. 

“My brother gave me this today. He seemed to think it was for me?” 

The last part came out as a question, and it was then Lance could see Keith tapping away at his thigh with his other hand, a constant twitch of fingers on denim. It actually helped a little, Lance realised, to know he wasn’t the only one nervous. 

Still didn’t prevent him from blushing and stammering slightly as he replied. 

“Oh…errr…yeah funny story, slight mix up with the cups. I blame Pidge,” Lance said, gesturing towards the counter, receiving an indignant squawk in reply. Lance turned, and raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. Reluctantly Pidge took the hint and moved away. Lance knew it probably made no difference, Hunk and Pidge would still be listening, but the illusion of privacy helped. 

In that time, Keith had turned the cup around to look at Lance’s scrawl. 

“Stop adding so much sugar, you’re sweet enough as it is.” he read out, and Lance winced. It was cheesy and stupid, but it was his favourite coffee pick up line, and did actually work for Keith. Plus he’d been in a hurry. He heard the sound of a cup shattering and knew his life was forever over with Pidge hearing what he’d written. 

“The name’s, Lance, capitalised and underlined” Keith continued, “You can call me to get those notes earlier if you like, Mullet. Then I presume this is your number.” Keith frowned as he looked up at Lance “I don’t have a mullet.”

“I mean, have you looked in the mirror? And I don’t know what else you’d call that…thing,” Lance exclaimed, gesturing wildly around Keith’s hair. Keith dodged away from the waving finger tips. 

“Why did you think I didn’t know your name? Your in my class, I…I asked you for those notes.” Keith was obviously trying to fight the blush spreading across his cheeks with sheer will power and it was honestly in the top 10 of most adorable things Lance had ever seen. 

“Then why did you ask when you came in here last week?” 

Lance didn’t think it was possible for a person’s face to go that particular shade of red, but Keith continued to surprise him today. 

“I’m not really great in the morning. I’d only just clocked you worked here after Shiro gave me the cup. I’m bad with faces in general but add it to mornings…” Keith trailed off, folding his arms across his chest as he did, immediately on the defensive. 

“Cute.” 

Keith’s eyes widened and Lance slapped his hands over his mouth as finally is brain-to-mouth filter broke down completely. 

“While I hate to break this up because, believe me, awkward flirting is one of my favourite embarrassing moments to witness, we’re getting a line Lance, and you have an actual job.” 

Lance and Keith both jumped at Pidge’s interruption and Lance saw indeed that a confused line was forming behind Keith. Quickly they both moved out of the way, and Lance headed back towards the counter entrance. Inhaling, he grasped the one tiny shred of bravado left and spun around on his heel as he walked. Shooting his trademark finger guns and a wink at Keith, he said:

“Well, mullet, and yes it is a mullet, you now have my name and my number. Your move.”

And before he could possibly give Pidge any more ammunition for future embarrassment, he hurried around to the espresso machine to start picking up orders with Hunk. 

He’d barely made one drink when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He looked up and saw Keith had joined the queue, phone out and smirking in Lance’s direction. 

Lance grinned, and turned back to the orders. Apparently, it was his move now. 


	2. Day 2: Galtean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far! 
> 
> I've wanted to write Galtean Klance for a while, so it was nice to get this idea out of my head (and it works as motivation to pick it up again after this month). 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Lance was going to cry. He’d been trying valiantly all morning to prevent it from happening but now he was here, about to walk out the door, and he was definitely going to cry. 

He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to get married today, not like this. 

It was strange, that he’d known this day was coming since he was ten years old and his mother had first explained the treaty. The war with the Galra continued to rage, causing devastation across their lands, decimating their people and destroying worlds. For thousands of years the Galaran Empire had fought to dominate the known worlds, and with Zarkon on the throne it had reached a level of cruelty none could ever have imagined. Altea had always stood against the conflict, with Mamora joining centuries after, and more recently, a group of royal rebels, originally lead by Zarkon’s brother and now his son, fought beside them. To unite the three branches of allies completely, a marriage alliance between Altea and Mamora, and Altea and the Galaran royal rebel fighters had been proposed and accepted. 

Of course, those who drew the treaty did not offer to marry themselves to their allies, oh no. Just their children, a fate that Lance was not exactly happy about, but wasn’t in a position to complain. 

Lance was a Prince, and even at ten years old he knew there would be many things in his life he didn’t have a choice in, would need to do in order to help his people. Marriage seemed a far off concept then, something that grown ups would do, and he needed to focus on other things, such as how likely it would be he could slay a dragon in the near future ( extremely unlikely ,  sadly ). 

Except now he was twenty, no longer a child and about to marry a man he’d never met. 

It wasn’t a usual marriage. Arranged marriages were still common  among royalty, but they usually contained loopholes. The treaty meant the marriage would be formal between all parties, but not sanctioned by any particular tradition scared to  any group . That being so, the minimum term was a year. If after this point, with reasonable evidence and consensus that the couple did not work, it could be dissolved with treaty staying in place. Although with this particular treaty, Lance had his doubts it would be that simple. The alliance was so important, and the relationships already fairly tentative between the three parties that it would take some serious consideration for no one to end up offended. 

He was knocked from his musings as the doors opened. Lance turned, expecting to be escorted to his doom (yes it was doom, he was not being dramatic thank you very much, Hunk), only to see his half sister instead. Then did the tears actually start to fall, and Allura crossed the room before tugging him into her arms. 

“I know, I know,” she murmured, not caring if her own wedding gown became a victim of his sadness. He knew Allura wasn’t exactly thrilled either with what she’d been signed up for, but at least she’d met Prince Lotor in the years leading up to the marriage. Lance knew she actually quite liked him, and from the few times he’d met the man, Lance could say they seemed a good match. As the exiled son of Zarkon, Lotor and Allura’s marriage had far more gravitas than his own, but still his had to go ahead. Their father had agreed to this shortly after Lance was born, and therefore his fate was sealed. 

“This is not how I wanted my wedding either. But it will be short, anyway. Just something to appease everyone, appearing on a balcony for the people and we’re done.” 

He could hear the sadness in her voice that she wouldn’t be partaking in any of the Altean marriage traditions like her own parents had. Allura missed her mother greatly, and today was particularly difficult. 

“I only vaguely know what my husband-to-be looks like,” Lance grumbled, pulling away from the hug. “seeing as he thinks himself too good to actually turn up to any courting meetings.” 

Allura sighed and nodded.  The  Mamora ns were an odd people, who defected from the Galra  E mpire back when the war was at it’s beginnings, before Zarkon had taken the cause to the extremes. As such they had little to no dealings or alliances with anyone, fighting actively against the Galran Empire and sustaining themselves. The alliance with Altea would be a historic moment, but it meant contacting them prior to the marriage date had been difficult. Four meetings had been set up so that Lance and Keith, his soon to be husband, could meet before the wedding, but Keith did not turn up to a single one. 

_What if I’m the reason for that?_

Lance brushed away that thought as quickly as he could, but Allura must have seen something in his face. 

“That has nothing to do with you, and all to do with them. I’ve heard he’s an active member of the Blade, even if he is a Prince. He could have been on a mission.”

Lance tried to nod and smile, but it just came out awkwardly. There were many rumors surrounding the Prince of Mamora, but that he was a member of their battle elite, the Blade, was the most frequently whispered. The Blade wore masks in battle so none of this could be confirmed, and Lance had a suspicion that even if it weren’t true, it was a rumor the Mamorans had no problem spreading. 

It didn’t matter much to Lance though. Secret ninja warrior or not, he was to marry this man in a few minutes, who had decided for whatever reason to scorn Lance. It was personal, no matter what Allura said. 

A knock at the door startled them both, and hastily they broke apart, Allura smoothing down her dress and Lance trying to calm his face. There was little he could do though, it was painfully obvious he’d been crying from his red stained and puffy eyes. And there was no time to do anything about it. 

There was a small outcry when Allura was found not to be where she was meant to, so she was escorted away rather abruptly, with a final encouraging smile over her shoulder at Lance. From there, the last few checks passed in blur, and before he knew it, he was walking towards the grand hall of the palace. 

With every step, he felt sick. The grandiose of the corridors made him feel dizzy, and the tears kept threatening to escape again. Allura was to enter first as the oldest and heir to the Altean throne, but she wasn’t at the main doors when he arrived. His mother however, was. 

She pulled her to him roughly as soon as he rounded the corner, and a sob escaped as she did. His mother’s hugs always did that to him, always brought whatever emotion he had brewing to the surface, but unlike when he’d been a child, this was a problem one of her hugs could not solve. 

She broke away, and wiped carefully at his tears, offering a smile of encouragement that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“You’ll be fine, my love. It will all work out.” 

Lance nodded, because really what else could he do? The treaty was a necessary evil, and it wasn’t her fault that his specific Prince had decided to shun Lance before they’d even started their marriage. 

She gave him one more smile, and turned to walk ahead as the doors opened. Sunlight was thrust into the corridor, and for an instant Lance was blinded, and forced to trust his own feet and the procession before him to guide his way. 

Once the initial light had dimmed, he was firstly stunned by the crowd. Nobles and royals of all three factions lined the room uniformly, all upstanding for the Prince’s march towards top of the room where the ceremony would take place. Lance wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so many people of rank in one place, and a spike of nerves seeped through him once more. So he focused forward, where he saw Allura and Lotor already stood, perfectly poised and awaiting his entrance. He distracted himself by admiring the expertly intricate braid that trailed down his sister’s back (he’d have to ask how they did it, it looked incredible and he  _needed_ to try it out later) because to the left hand side of the couple, where he was headed, was a smaller figure dressed in dark clothing that made Lance’s throat constrict. 

There was only so much time he could live in denial though, and far sooner than he liked, the procession ended and he reached the stairs at the top of the room. Those ahead of him peeled away to their rightful places and Lance was left to ascend alone, and stand next to the mysterious Keith. On closer inspection he was wearing a black outfit, a sharp contrast to Lance’s own bright colours. Violet swirls punctuated the fabric, finishing in a hood that he currently kept over his face. As Lance approached though, he reached up with black gloved and hands and delicately lowered it. 

Lance couldn’t help it. He gulped once, steeling himself before slowly turning his head to the side.

Keith was already looking at him. Violet, sharp eyes, a dramatic difference to the usual yellow of the Galra. His skin was a lighter shade than most too, a softer lilac that contrasted greatly with his hair, which was as dark as the suit he wore. Keith blinked, then frowned slightly, a pinch of the eyebrows that was accompanied by a slight tilting forward of his head, as if studying Lance and finding him wanting. 

In response, Lance whipped his head back, his eyes stinging.  _Do I really have to do this? Am I really marrying someone who finds me such a disappointment?_

He inhaled shakily, feeling Keith’s eyes still on him as he struggled with everything he had to keep his emotions for pouring out in public. Thankfully, the rulers of all 3 nations took that moment to stand, and Keith turned his gaze back forward. 

Lance inhaled once more. His wedding was about to begin. 


	3. Day 3: Mermaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 6am in an airport. That's my excuse for this. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading!

The song was everything to him; all around him, beneath him, seeping through his bones and rushing  down a pathway in his veins. The sea was midnight dark around a purple sky, and Keith’s back against the rock was a mess of blood and pain. His mouth clicked, dry despite the water on every side, dry and tasting of  metallic salt. 

He was dying. He knew he was dying, everyone else was gone and drowned by now. He’d seen the rocks, seen the waves turn suddenly from passive to hunter and their lives became the prey of the ocean. But the song was all that mattered, all that ever had mattered for a s far as he was concerned . The notes kept climbing and his eyes kept closing, his mouth now more metal than salt. 

“No sleeping, not yet.” 

The words joined the song, the same timbre and caress. With effort, Keith forced his eyes to open, following the command. 

All he could see for a moment was blue, a blue so bright it was barely the same colour he was used to. Sharp teeth, tiny daggers all advancing as he turned his head, the song louder than ever before. 

The mermaid watched him turn and struggle to breathe, it’s bright blue eyes shining, smile ever growing. It hummed, it’s hand reaching out to touch Keith’s cheek, soothing and cold, ever so cold. He was beautiful though, through the danger and death. All tan skin and flecks of coloured markings beneath the shining eyes; reds and muted blues, a sliver of silver. His tail flapped to Keith’s left, and he could just about distinguish more of the incredible blue sheen mixed with a green his mind could have never imagined.  T he cold hand moved his head back. 

“Shhhh…you are incredible,” the mermaid whispered, words like a lullaby. He leaned forward, and cold lips brushed Keith forehead, an ice kiss that burned in hot agony for a moment. 

“Will you come with me? Stay with me? You are not like them. You could be more. You could be mine,” the mermaid whispered, sharp teeth seeming to extend with the final offer. 

Keith inhaled, and it cut like scissors inside, something snapping that was necessary and deep in his chest. 

_I’m about to die. Does it matter? Everyone else is gone. Mother, father, Shiro…all dead or vanished. I have no one to miss me. But I don’t want to die, oh god don’t let me-_

“I didn’t say you would die, my love. Stay with me… stay. Stay forever.” 

The mermaid caressed his cheek once more and Keith closed his eyes one final time. Around his shattered body the sea roared, blood welled in his mouth and the blue-stained mermaid soothed his skin with frozen kisses. 

“I’ll…be yours,” he managed. Because when in his short life had he ever been anyone’s? Ever been a first choice, ever been wanted as much as this creature seemed to want him. Perhaps it was the siren song, perhaps it was knowing he was going to die anyway, but this felt truly, like his most reasonable choice. 

A flash of blue, a flick of a tail, and then Keith was falling. An arctic shock of the sea, a hungry desperate kiss given to his lips, a spark of pain. 

Then nothing at all.


	4. Day 4: Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading! 
> 
> It's been so long since I did anything HP related, so this was fun.

The wind screamed in Lance’s ears as he dove, weaving through Griffindor’s players with an expertise he’d honed from training after training session these past few years. He glanced up; calculating, watching. He flew sideways, zigzagged past one, two...there!

 

He threw his body backwards and smacked the oncoming bludger victoriously, hitting it at the perfect angle to send it straight into the opposition's Keeper. She was forced to drop at the last second or loose her broom completely, leaving them wide open for Allura to swoop in a score.

 

“Yes!” he screamed in tandem with the roar of the crowd, Allura grinning and sending him a blinding smile. They were almost unstoppable today, the duo in blue, Ravenclaw’s fearsome tag team. Lance turned in the air; only for a burst of red and gold to sweep up beneath him.

 

Keith levelled to his height. He was so fast, always a blur on the pitch until the moment he caught the snitch, but now he was stationary, almost nose to nose with Lance in the middle of the game.

 

“Nice one, sharpshooter.”

 

Then he was gone, falling right back down again before swooping back up high, on the search to end the game.

 

“Do not get distracted, Lane, I swear!” Allura screamed as they reset. Lance winked and flew alongside her for a moment.

 

“I can’t help it if my boyfriend’s so hot when he flies like that!”

 

Allura groaned.

 

“This is the final Lance, and we are winning! I am not loosing because you got distracted by Keith, I will end you right on this pitch with thousands of witnesses.”

 

Lance snorted. “Like you’d be any better if Lotor were up here,” he yelled, before diving back down and launching himself straight across the pitch on the look out for the next perfect angle, the wind swallowing up any retort Allura may have had.

 

This was it. Lance and Allura were Captain and Vice Capitan of the Ravenclaw Quiddich team respectively. They’d spent hours training and strategising, their team were stronger than ever, and most crucially, it was their last chance. This was their final year at school, and Ravenclaw winning the Quidditch final would be the icing on the cake.

 

Lance was good at strategy. Excellent as a matter of fact, and his ability to hit bludgers exactly where and how he wanted them made him one of the strongest players of all the Houses, and certainly the most talented Beater.

 

They had this. And the fact that their final match was against Griffindor, where their Captain was his boyfriend/long term rival? Well that was just perfect.

 

He and Keith had been competitive since their first class together in their first week at Hogwarts. Whether it was memorising charms, finding the most obscure magical plants or turning the pumpkin juice into the most ridiculous flavour (Lance had somehow managed to turn it what was collectively agreed to be the flavour of sad Tuesday mornings, and after that it was decided there were certain things that shouldn’t be messed with), they would turn anything they could into a competition.

 

Despite this, and probably under the influence of the others in their group, they’d managed to cobble together a friendship, which just under two years ago had morphed and changed. He couldn’t name exactly the time when he’d fallen for Keith, what had made him lean in and kiss him in the middle of the night on their first day back from Christmas break. But looking back on it now, Lance could tell these feelings had been sparked so long ago, but taken time to come to the surface. With their history, he couldn’t imaging it turning out any other way.

 

They still maintained their rivalry though, and Quidditch was the main outlet nowadays. Lance hardly thought they could be blamed though. Allura was probably worse than both of them combined when it came to the game.

 

Lance cracked out a perfect spin on his bat so the opposition Beater nearly went careering off their broom, and saved his own team’s Keeper from a potential hit. Just as he spotted his next target, a tidal wave of cheers from below caught his ears. It was a particular type of scream, the echo of extreme excitement, which could only mean one thing.

 

“Snitch,” he hissed to himself, spinning around until he saw his own team mate and Keith corkscrewing downwards just beneath him.

 

Perfect.

 

The trajectory would be difficult but he could do it. There were two bludgers spinning in their direct path and he just needed to get the right line of sight to make sure it knocked Keith off course and led his own team to victory. He was already flying as his mind made the calculations, swooping and almost stepping onto the top of his broom to reach.

 

The screaming increased; from the wind, the crowd, his own mind. The balls moved, and this was actually going to be harder than he thought but if he could just reach a little more…

 

He slipped. Just a fraction, but he steadied at the last moment and hit the oncoming bludger out of his way, slightly off target but he…

 

Miscalculated.

 

That, followed by a horrendous curse that his mother would be ashamed of were the last two thought he had as the second ball hit home and his vision vanished into a painful night.

 

* * *

 

It felt as if someone had mashed his skull into paste and molded it back together while he slept. Pain blossomed from all edges, sharp and dull all at once, a symphony of headaches just waiting for him to pick the one he’d like to sink into. Slowly, Lance pulled himself into consciousness, the sharp pains become one loud blast as he opened his eyes.

 

“You’re awake, finally!”

 

Lance winced as Allura filled his vision, still in her flying robes, hair falling out of the circle braid she’d worn during the game.

 

“Not so loud, please,” Lance replied, and she winced, nodding in agreement.

 

“How are you feeling, buddy?” Hunk, still in uniform swam into being next to her, looking as if he’d been crying.

 

“Head hurts.”

 

“No shit.” Pidge was the last to appear, also still in uniform, minus the Sytherin tie that never seemed to last with them no matter how many times the Professors moaned.

 

“Your skull was almost cracked wide open. You were covered in blood when they picked you up. Apparently they need to test you for lasting brain damage.”

 

The matter of fact tone did nothing to suppress the way Pidge fiddled with their glasses as they spoke, the tell-tale tick that they were scared.

 

A silence fell over the group before Hunk sniffed again.

 

“You...you almost died, Lance. The way it hit you...”

 

“Hey,” Lance managed to rasp, his voice feeling trapped and lost even as he spoke. “I’m fine, I’m here. I know who you all are, I know where I am. At Hogwarts, in what I hope is the hospital wing,” he added, as none of them seemed particularly confident in his answers.

 

“Wait did we...did we win?”

 

Allura’s face fell and Lance closed his eyes against that look. When he opened them, she looked just as crushed as he felt by the news.

 

“No. Keith caught the snitch maybe a few seconds after you got hit. Although he did let it go the second he saw you on the ground,” she added.

 

“Where is he?” Hunk asked, voicing what Lance was about to ask.

 

“Got got waylaid on his way here, the team insisted he needed to say something since they won. I’m pretty sure he was ready to duel them all to see you,” Allura said with a smile.

 

She reached out and grabbed Lance’s hand squeezing it tightly. He squeezed back, and Hunk grabbed his other hand while Pidge sat down at the foot of the bed, patting his leg once before launching into a detailed analysis of the rest of the match. They couldn’t have been talking for more than a few minutes before Madame Pomfrey appeared.

 

“I told you all I’d give you five minutes once Mr McClain woke up, and it’s been at least fifteen. He needs rest. You can all come back after breakfast in the morning.”

 

While the three of them tried to wheedle their way into staying a little longer with no success, Lance was privately grateful for the intervention. His head was pounding and the idea of sleeping until the next day sounded like heaven.

 

After Allura, Hunk and Pidge had reluctantly left, he was given a draft of a bright gold potion that looked amazing but smelled like a bog, and told that it should help heal the final injuries while he slept.

 

Lance stretched, willing sleep to come. He could do with forgetting a lot of this day. He’d not been hurt in a game in years, let alone this badly. Plus… they’d lost. Lance had dreamed of winning this as Captain since he was in first year, and they’d gotten so close. It hurt, almost as if he’d wasted that time, that energy when all that waited was defeat. He sighed into the empty room. He was probably being a little dramatic with the last one, but of all the days, he guessed he was allowed to today.

 

Besides, if he was going to loose to anyone, he was secretly glad it was Keith. Not that he’d ever say that to anyone. But Lance knew how much this meant to Keith, how hard he’d worked to get where he was, especially after having an exceptionally difficult start to their first year.

 

Silver linings to the otherwise awful day danced in his head, and managed to gently lull him into sleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke up in the depths of night. He could just make out a sliver of light from an open window, shadows forming from the white light of the moon.

 

Including the looming figure _right on top of him._

 

His body jerked automatically, his mouth already forming a scream when a familiar voice cut through his panic.

 

“Shh, shhh, Lance, it’s just me...”

 

“Keith?” Lance managed, heart rate slowly reducing back down to normal, and his eyes adjusting to the dim light to confirm that it was in fact, his boyfriend leaning over him.

 

Keith smiled, but it looked forced. He exhaled, hand reaching out to stroke the hair off Lance’s forehead. His fingers danced across the injury, feather-soft and searching, as if trying to assess the damage to himself.

 

Lance closed his eyes, the familiar feeling of Keith’s touches soothing his already tired mind back into fogginess.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Lance pulled himself back from sleeps enticing lure, and focused hard on Keith. Lance struggled upwards, propping himself up more securely in the hospital bed, despite Keith’s noises of protest.

 

“What are you sorry for?” Lance asked, patting the side of the bed to stop Keith from awkwardly hovering.

 

Besides, if his boyfriend could sneak in here after hours, he was going to take full advantage and get cuddles.

 

Keith hesitated for a moment, then ever so carefully sat down, only to be forced into lying down when Lance tugged on his arm until he was lying on top of the covers next to him.

 

“Watch your head, come on Lance,” Keith hissed as Lance tried to manoeuvre him exactly where he wanted, and eventually after struggling for a few further minutes, Lance was settled comfortably on Keith’s chest.

 

“Now, what were you apologising for?”

 

He felt Keith sigh, and gloved hands began to stroke idly through his hair, the contact still softer than usual.

 

“For not being here when you woke up. For not noticing faster when you got hurt.”

 

Lance shook his head, then stopped abruptly as the movement caused a wave of dizziness to surge through him. He inhaled once, steadying himself before answering.

 

“It was the middle of the game, you noticed pretty quickly from what I was told. And you’re team Captain; you cant exactly not say anything to your team after you won. Congratulations by the way,” Lance added, closing his eyes again.

 

“This is not the way I should have won. Doesn’t mean anything when you’re hurt.”

 

Lance fumbled with his hand in the blankets for a moment, then reached out for Keith’s. He pulled their combined hands together, kissing his fingertips.

 

“I’m fine. I just need sleep. I promise.”

 

He felt Keith sign again.

 

“You scared me, Lance. I saw you...there was a lot of blood.” Keith’s voice shook as he spoke, and Lance felt his entire body freeze as he tried to stop it from happening.

 

Lance smiled, squeezing the hand still in his. He could feel himself slipping back into sleep, his mind and the magic wanting him to shut down, but he had to stay away for just a little longer.

 

“I’m sorry. I know I scared you, I didn’t mean to. And I’m right here, with you. Will you stay?” the last part came out slurred, but it was the highest priority for him right now.

 

“I will. Rest now.” Keith’s voice was soft, soothing. A perfect accompaniment to Lance’s current mood.

 

“I like you being here. You should stay here.”

 

Keith chuckled, the vibrations buzzing into Lance’s head.

 

“I said I’d stay,” he replied. Lance frowned. That wasn’t quite...he was so so tired but Lance really wanted to get this out.

 

“I mean, always. Like this, every night. You should stay. After we finish school. Always stay.”

 

It was a jumbled mass of words but it was all could manage as he lost his battle to stay awake and coherent. Even as he drifted back into slumber, he felt Keith press a kiss to the top of his head.

 

“I’ll always stay, as long as you want me Lance. Wherever you want me. I love you.”

 

“Love you,” Lance managed back, a smile on his face as he let unconsciousness take over.


	5. Day 6: Supernatural

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone reading, leaving Kudos and commenting! Really glad you are enjoying these. 
> 
> I skipped day 5 as I'll be combining it with a prompt later in the month. Which has nothing to do with lack of inspo...nope, none at all. 
> 
> Anyway, for supernatural I went vampire because I'll never pass up an opportunity to write a vampire story.

The hunters were still chasing, still somehow managing to keep up despite each twist and diversion Keith made through the city. He didn’t have much time; he could smell the rising of the dark, the warning that it was closer to day than night.

 

He dropped low from a fire escape, sprinting down one, two, three streets before heading directly west. He splashed through puddles, inhuman speed sending the water into waves; but still they followed, still on his tail.

 

His mind hummed with the faint vibrancy of human blood he’d consumed three days ago. The energy spurred him, allowed him to jump higher, faster, reach the rooftops and leap between. There was no way they could follow him as swiftly up here. He glanced around once, hair whipping into his eyes as he planned his route.

 

Out of the city, ride as fast he could and into the dessert and away. He could do this. As long as the Garrison Hunters didn’t reach him, he’d be able to find shelter before first light.

 

_But I don’t want to leave…_

 

He growled, fangs parting, his body already reacting before that thought could consume him in its entirety. This place was not safe. He had no choice but to run now, to meet up with Shiro and Adam, to plan their next move in a place without the ever present threat of Hunters on his tail.

 

As if the thought itself could summon them, a shout echoed from below and Keith cursed. The curfew meant the streets were empty, but he still did not expect them to have been able to catch up so soon. But he was close, so close he could feel the heartbeats wane as he reached the boarder where less people lived.

 

He jumped down from on high into a particularly grimy alley, his feet landing like feathers, his body tensed and waiting. No sign. He could hear them approaching, they were near but not close enough. He could run.

 

So he did, and although the cry followed he continued. The blood rush was diluting though, and although without its high he was still faster than them, he was slowing. The Hunters had him outmatched in sheer numbers, let alone with the weapons they carried. He’d been poisoned by their darts weeks before, and the incapacity was swift agony. He would never make it out of the city if they caught him.

 

He doubled back, swerving around shipping crates and abandoned rubbish to hopefully mask the scent and make perusing difficult, but it was of no use. As he rounded the second corner and flash of orange met his eyes and he was slammed against a wall, restrained by the magically altered chain wound around the barer’s arm. It depleted his strength with one touch, and before he could attempt to fight or even think of a method of dispatching his captor, he was dragged through a door and pushed roughly against the back of it. He hissed, his fangs launching from his mouth because it may be futile, their weapons may be impossible to break from but he would go down fighting to the end -

 

His brain short circuited when found himself being kissed roughly.

 

The instant his brain caught up, the scent of the Hunter permeated through and it was _Lance_ , so Keith kissed back just as bruisingly, the fear and the rush of the chase pouring into it, pulling Lance too him as they depended their embrace.

 

Lance moved his arm from around Keith, and as soon as the chain was lifted from his skin, Keith stretch flooded back. He gasped into the kiss and in blur of speed swung them round, pinning Lance to the door as he nipped at his lips, fangs still present, and Lance shivered. He distantly heard the chain unravel, being dropped loudly to the ground as Lance wrapped his arms tightly around Keith’s back, clutching at him.

 

All too soon, Keith pulled away, resting his head in the crook of Lance’s neck. His heartbeat blasted a rhythm in the otherwise silent room, his panting joining to create symphony of safety for Keith.

 

_He’s alive, and he’s here. They do not know. They do not have him._

 

“You have to leave. They won’t be able to chase you much further than they city, the law won’t allow it.”

 

“That’s what I was trying to do,” Keith muttered, nuzzling back into Lance’s pulse, warmth of his skin making it hard to concentrate.

 

“Keith,” Lance said, voice louder, hands pulling his face upwards.

 

Keith raised his eyes to look at the man before him. Eyes so blue, even in the dark, the shadows of sleepless nights plain to see. On the other-side of his neck, a scar so faint only Keith eyes could see it stood out from the otherwise pristine Garrison Hunter look.

 

Keith’s mark. His fingers twitched, reaching out to trace where his teeth had split the skin those few days ago. Lance sighed, smiling, but the sadness still feel between them. Keith smiled too, despite it all. This human, who willingly shared his life force, who loved Keith so fiercely knowing what he was. In all his years, he had never met someone who moved his entire being as much as Lance.

 

And now he had to leave him.

 

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Lance opened his eyes.

 

“I will find you. I will not stay here, not a moment longer.”

 

“Do not let them suspect you,” Keith murmured, moving his fingers upwards to cup Lance’s cheek.

 

Lance shook his head, leaning into the contact.

 

“I will make sure they do not know. I’ll give you enough time to escape, then meet up with the three of you. I’m coming with you. You can’t stop me.”

 

The stubbornness in the face of fear, despite the knowledge that it was ridiculously dangerous, that their relationship was forbidden in the place Lance had spent his entire life, was one of things Keith loved about him. So he kissed him, pouring his goodbye into that moment. Lance gripped at his collar, pulling him as close as physically possible for one, two, three heartbeats before they had to let go.

 

“I love you,” Keith whispered, his forehead touching Lance’s. Lance inhaled, pulse stuttering in a way that made Keith smile. He had been skirting around the words, unsure if he was ready to admit the depth of his attachment, his love for this human with his fragile life and body.

 

Lance smacked Keith with his arm in frustration.

 

“You can’t just do that mullet, you can’t tell me you love me then leave,” he hissed, but the smile he was trying to fight was a give-away.

 

“But you won’t be far behind. And I’ll tell you again then.”

 

They both stood for a second, smiling, allowing themselves once more glance, one more moment to remember before the fight and flight took over.

 

“I love you too, though who knows why,” Lance smirked winking at Keith as he spoke. Keith rolled his eyes as Lance moved away from the door. By the time he fixed the chain back to his arm, any light-heartedness had dissipated.

 

“Go right, then up. You should be able to jump your way over the boarder there. They are expecting you to use the port, but if you go over the wall, it should give you a better chance.”

 

Keith nodded. He braced himself, then without a further glance opened the door and sprinted to the right. By the end street he careered up and as Lance said, the shout was much farther away than before.

 

The last of the night beckoned, and his way was clear out of the city.

 

_I will see you again,_ he promised into the half light, before spinning over the wall and towards freedom.


	6. Day 7: Internet friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support! 
> 
> Short, friends/pre-Klance to Klance drabble today. Not sure about this one, but I hope you all enjoy reading :)

**L0verboiL has logged on**  


**L0verboiL: are you actually playing that??!! Why. Whyyyyy**

 

Keith ignored the judgmental chat box that appeared in the right hand corner of his screen, continuing with the level. Except it kept pinging. And pinging. And-

 

_**Redblade4: I just need something mindless and would you PLEASE STOP** _

 

**L0verboiL:** **What happened?**

 

Keith slipped his headphones off and sighed into his hands. The whir of the computer fans was comforting in the small, dark room. It was late, too late to really be playing when he had class tomorrow, but sleep wouldn’t come even if he tried.

 

_**Redblade4: it’s nothing** _

 

It was something really, and he knew when the typing icon appeared that LL (he couldn’t stand that name, but the guy had told Keith he made it when he was 12, which was fair since Keith’s own name was ridiculous and made when he was young too) could see through him. They’d know each other for nearly 2 years now via this sever, and had talked a lot. About things Keith could barely admit to himself, let alone say out-loud. But typing and talking to someone online was so much easier than in the real world, and there was something about LL that made him unable to keep up his walls.

 

**L0verboiL:** **1-10?**

 

Keith smiled despite himself. They used numbers instead of words if either one of them needed support. Much simpler than trying to explain what words often failed to, and allowed him to say when he needed help desperately, without having to feel vulnerable and split open for all to see.

 

It had originally come up as part of a group chat with their old raiding party. LL had been extremely open about his depression, expressing how important it was to talk about these things; to normalise and reach out. It had prompted Keith to speak up privately after. He’d sent a direct message to LL, asking for a small hint, just a little slice of information that could aid him after a particularly bad episode. They’d bonded a little over it, and in time Keith had found it easier to seek help in different places. Now, he was almost comfortable discussing his mental state openly with LL, but the scale made it easier to start a conversation.

 

_**Redblade4: 6. Class presentation. Didn’t go so well. One panic attack. Think I’ll fail.** _

 

The typing bubble appeared again.

 

**L0verboiL:** **how are you feeling now? Any chance you can speak to the professor? Or get your student advisor t** **o** **mediate? You said she was helpful before right?**

 

How was he feeling now? Hard to calculate. A little numb, still shaky, still in his head and stretched too thin. But it was easing, and this conversation was helping.

 

_**Redblade4: getting there. Thanks. Yeah she is nice, I can try talking to her.** _

 

**LoverboiL: can I do anything to help? Actually play a decent game with you?**

 

Keith snorted at the screen, feeling lighter and lighter the more they talked.

 

_**Redblade4: you’ve already helped. But yeah, we can. I’m not gonna sleep anytime soon.** _

 

**LoverboiL: Are you sure? It’s pretty late, dude. You don’t want to try and sleep?**

 

_**Redblade4: I don’t, I’d rather have a distraction** _

 

Keith looked away from the screen for a moment, smiling. LL tended to do that to him. He realised they knew a fair amount about each other, even though Keith had originally been determined to make sure no one online could find out anything about him. They were both in college, both living in the same city, and despite the complaining he’d received earlier, they had a pretty similar taste in games. When they teamed up, they were almost unstoppable.

 

He also knew LL had an amazing laugh. Keith felt his cheeks heat up at that. They’d been on mics before so he knew his voice well, could pick it out from the group in a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, but before he could contemplate it for too long, the chat pinged again.

 

**LoverboiL: wanna try this?**

 

The link sent him to a standard looking world building game, with a slight magical element. It wasn’t their usual type of game, but before he could ask anything further, LL sent another message.

 

**LoverboiL: I played this with my sister last week after she broke up with her gf. It’s cute and easy, the art is awesome and its no pressure. Felt like the sort of thing that might work right now?**

 

“What the hell, urg,” Keith muttered, absently pulling his hair from the short ponytail he’d pulled into hours ago. This guy was adorable, thoughtful and close to his family.

 

_Is it possible to have a crush on someone you’ve never met?_ Keith wondered to himself, but simply agreed in the chat box and received a series of dancing emojis in reply.

 

He clicked the link to the game, and started creating his character. It was simple enough, and after a few minutes he’d created one which looked vaguely like real – life him. Keith wasn’t exactly sure why he’d gone for looking like himself when he could have been anything he wanted. Chalk it up to laziness or tiredness, but he wasn’t in the mood to be creative. And he didn’t feel the need to hide so much with LL. In conversation they were always honest, in games they had each others backs. He actually didn’t mind them knowing a little of what he looked like, seeing as LL knew a lot of how his mind and thoughts worked.

 

Which should have been worrying but he felt nothing of the sort as he joined the game.

 

For ease, he kept his same user name. LL was right, the artwork was amazing, vivid with a sort of floating feeling that was soothing on the eyes and mind. As soon as he opening sequence was finished, he found himself on a green full of pastel coloured followers which swayed hypnotically on the screen.

 

Before him stood a boy, brown hair and light blue eyes wearing a simple blue long sleeved top and jeans. He had freckles. Which was cute.

 

_Who adds freckles?!_ Keith thought to himself, but then realised he’d given his character fingers-less gloves so he probably shouldn’t judge.

 

**L0verboiL: Hey! didn’t take too long. What do you think?**

 

With that his avatar swung around, making the flowers spin within him. Keith laughed into his hand.

 

_**Redblade4: it’s nice, very soothing. What do you do?** _

 

**L0verboiL: Right?! You build the world you want, then you can explore further, go on quests.**

 

Keith smiled, pulling up the guide as LL explained, and their avatars moved across the field, more flowers blooming in their wake.

 

_**Redblade4: Show me** _

 

And that’s exactly what he did. Over the next two hours they built a shack that Keith became weirdly attached to, LL managed to barter for a cow from a passing group of travelers and Keith found an abandoned puppy that could teleport.

 

But by that point, even as cute as his new fluffy friend was, it was almost 3am and he was shutting down.

 

**L0verboiL: tired?**

 

_**Redblade4: yeah. But having fun** _

 

**L0verboiL: well this is our place now, you can come back whenever you like! Get some rest, buddy**

 

Keith hesitated, suddenly worrying if this was a good idea.

 

_**Redblade4: how about tomorrow? If it’s our place we should build it together** _

 

“shitshitshitshitshit”,” Keith whispered once he’d finished typing, slamming his head against the desk in horror at what he’d suggested. His heartbeat pulsed in his ears, only dulled down by the tell-tale ping of a received message. Slowly, Keith looked up.

 

**L0verboiL: sure! i’m free after 7??**

 

Keith hands shook as he typed.

 

_**Redblade4: same** _

 

**L0verboiL: nice! Get some sleep mullet (can’t believe you made a character with a mullet!!)**

 

Keith inhaled once, but hell if he was going to do this, he may as well do it all at once.

 

_**Redblade4: my name’s Keith** _

 

When there was a lack of typing after the initial message, Keith was sure he’d gone too far. Real names was a step in a strange direction, moving this from the safety of imagined words into something more real. Into something they’d have to think about more.

 

**L0verboiL: I’m Lance**

 

**L0verboiL: wanted to tell you that for a while haha**

 

And maybe it was possible to have a crush on someone you’d never met. Keith was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to live in denial much longer.

 

_**Redblade4: me too. See you tomorrow, Lance** _

 

**L0verboiL: sweet dreams, Keith**


	7. Day 8: Garrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, this is set in a world without Voltron, or without Shiro being ill; so just Garrison training and nothing awful happening to Shiro. 
> 
> Shadam and Klance with Shiro being a fab big brother to Keith. Because basically everyone deserves happiness. 
> 
> Thanks for reading so far and hope you continue to enjoy these!

“Shiro!” Keith yelled, storming into the room and dumping his bag on the floor with a huff. He moved to stalk further into the small apartment, then doubled back with a sigh to remove his shoes, careful to keep the piece of paper in his hand as crease-free as possible as he did so.

 

“Hey, Keith,” Adam called, appearing from the kitchen, nodding in approval when he noticed the shoe removal.

 

Keith grunted in return, and continued his search for Shiro. Adam rolled his eyes and followed.

 

“Nice to see you too. He’s in his office. Marking,” Adam added, knowing it wouldn’t actually deter Keith, but might give him some sort of warning that his pseudo-brother wouldn’t be too pleased with an interruption.

 

Keith paused, swiveling back to wards Adam quickly. He felt extremely awkward, even though he’d known him for a while. Shiro he had no problem relating to now but Adam was still a bit of a mystery. He was kind, a good pilot but also blunt and steady. Keith was not naturally good at bonding with anyone, had just about managed it with Shiro, but one person was his limit. Hence his current problem. In addition, Keith wasn’t exactly sure how Adam felt about Shiro inviting Keith into their carefully constructed lives so readily. Keith was sure most people wouldn’t be too happy to have to care for an abandoned teen with little warming, no matter how talented a pilot they were. It made him feel weird, and not know what to say when Shiro wasn’t around.

 

But Shiro was going to marry the man, so Keith had to try.

 

“Um...thank you. Nice to see you.”

 

Adam tried not to laugh. The kid was adorable.

 

“Just knock before you go in. Want something to eat?”

 

Keith nodded, suddenly realising he was starving. He’d rushed over here as soon as classes were over, and hadn’t actually taken into account how long it had been since he’d last eaten, let alone the gym class he’d done in between.

 

Adam nodded. “I’ll bring something soon.”

 

With that, he disappeared back to the small kitchen area, leaving Keith free to build back up his annoyance, and march to Shiro’s ‘office’ which was really just a re-purposed storage room with a desk, computer and a bit of shelving.

 

Keith banged on the door once before yelling his brother’s name.

 

A hushed curse and the sound of something dropped to the floor was the only response. Keith could swear he heard Adam laugh from behind him, but before he could turn to look, the door opened and a disgruntled Shiro appeared.

 

“Hello Keith,” he said, voice already sounding tired. Keith felt his rage subside a little. But not really enough to backtrack.

 

“I need your help,” Keith said, thrusting the sheet of paper at his chest. Shiro raised an eyebrow and took it from him, moving it closer to his face to read the uni-formally typed text.

 

As he did, his expression flitted between surprised to annoyed.

 

“You’re suspend from any flight simulations for a week, and you have detention?” he asked incredulously, staring at the paper.

 

“What?!” Adam called in surprise, startling Keith and rushing forward to take the paper.

 

“That seems harsh,” he muttered, releasing it carefully while Shiro crossed his arms and looked down at Keith. Keith signed loudly, tipping his head to the ceiling. That was the Shiro look for ‘explain yourself.’

 

“It was not my fault, and it IS harsh. This other kid in my class was being a pain, he’s so annoying Shiro, and he started it, so I need you to get me out of this.”

 

Shiro held up his hand, and Adam lowed the paper to look at Keith over his glasses. Keith shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with all the attention.

 

“What exactly did you and this other kid do to get a suspension and detention?”

 

Keith grimaced. He’d know this was coming, but it didn’t make it sit any easier. It was frustrating, but his feelings had a tendency to just...take over. Blinded by rage, sadness, confusion even happiness was on occasion too much to deal with. He’d just react to whatever feeling was going on, interpret what he could and strike out before it could hurt too much. Shiro said with time, he’d get better at controlling these outburst but until then it was a back and forward journey.

 

“We just argued. Loudly. In a class room. Then Captain Richards came in and started screaming at us, then at me and... I may have...thrown something.”

 

Adam looked scandalised, but was also for some reason smiling. “At him?”

 

“No!” Keith protested loudly. “At a wall, I was angry when Captain Richards wouldn’t listen to me. He kept calling me a waste of space and I just grabbed the first thing I saw...” he trailed off, shame appearing through the blush that spread to the tips of his ears. He jumped, startled when a pair of hands rested on his shoulders. He looked up to see Adam grinning at him.

 

“Was it his cactus? Please tell me it was the cactus.”

 

Confused, Keith nodded. Adding to the confusion, Adam burst into laughter, moving away from Keith and clutching at Shiro as he did.

 

“Adam!” Shiro hissed, but for some reason he was smiling slightly as well.

 

“I know, I know but come on ‘Kashi, that guys a homophobic asshole, you heard what he called us at the Christmas party. About time someone smashed that ugly plant.”

 

“Be that as it may, Keith, you can’t smash things when you’re angry.” Shiro paused. “Even if the guys definitely had it coming.”

 

Adam laughed again, before turning to look at Keith.

 

“So, who was the kid you were arguing with and what was it about. Seeing as it ended up in a shouting match and a pour dead cactus.”

 

Keith tutted, the simmering sentiments of frustration, anger and a little sadness that he’d been pushing away for the last hour resurfaced.

 

“Lance...something.”

 

“Lance McClain?” Adam said, sounding surprised. Keith nodded.

 

“Huh, he seems like a nice kind.”

 

“Well, he’s not. He keeps making fun of my hair, keeps challenging me to things, keeps commenting of my flying. He called me his rival today. Like, the fuck, I don’t have a rival?!”

 

“Language,” Shiro said absently. Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“Sounds like… he wants your attention.” Adam said, a weird and unnerving look on his face.

 

“Why?” Keith asked, bemused. Most of classmates seemed to refer to him as ‘that emo kid’ and after realising how awkward his social skills were, and his lack of interest in changing that, left him readily alone. Lance was the complete opposite, but all it did was lead to arguments and challenges. Keith had spent most of his life trying to prove himself in one way or another, and old habits died hard. Thus it was pretty easy to bait him into competing, if given enough prodding.

 

“Oh I don’t know,” Adam said, the words a drawl. Weirdly, Shiro shifted from one foot to the other as he spoke.

 

“Talking about your hair, trying to get you to notice him through meaningless competition. Sounds sort of familiar.”

 

“Okay, enough!” Shiro said suddenly, clapping his hands. Adam was still smiling. The whole exchange was baffling to Keith, but the two were always having these weird aside conversations. Must be a boyfriend thing.

 

“Anyway, Keith, why don’t you try seeing if there’s anything you have in common with Lance that you don’t have to make a competition? That way maybe you’ll argue less?” Shiro tried.

 

“I kinda like the competing, I just don’t like him yelling at me. Or being his rival. I don’t want to be his rival,” Keith explained. Which was true, the exhilaration of fighting for first place was fun, it was just the random insults he didn’t like.

 

“Of course you do,” muttered Shiro, who received a stare from Adam in response. Shiro glared back, then turned to Keith.

 

“Focus on the having fun part, and say if anything really upsets you. And no more throwing things. But...I’ll see what I can do about the simulator. You’re going to detention, though.”

 

Keith would take it. The simulator was the main problem anyway, detention he could deal with, even if it was with Lance. Adam and Shiro then started taking about dinner, so Keith followed them absently, mind running through the homework he had left for the evening.

 

“Should we tell him?”

 

Shiro’s whisper from the kitchen made him stall.

 

“Nah, he’ll get it on his own…okay maybe he won’t but I know McClain. He’ll crack and confess in no time, believe me.”

 

 _Confess what?_ Keith wondered, but shook his head and walked back to the living room to collect his bag and homework. He’d spent far too much time thinking about Lance for one day.


	8. Day 9: Movie of choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what happened to this. Wow. It's long. And a really random movie. 
> 
> This is based (somewhat) on Practical Magic. As in, I've basically used Sally's main plotline and that's about it. 
> 
> No, I really don't know how I ended up thinking of this movie. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like!

_Esmeralda was barely seventeen. Cold, alone and pregnant, she begged them to let her stay; pleaded with her lover to appeal to the elders and stand up for his unborn child._

_But of course he did not. He turned away as they pushed her into the boat, uninterested now their liaisons were in the light of day, and unmarried woman with child was a disgrace to their people. They called her a witch, a charmer, a snake. All she did was fall in love, naively perhaps, but all she ever wanted was love for their small, growing family._

 

_But she was betrayed, exiled and left alone on an island to die._

 

_Except, in fact she would not. Although she had never used her powers the way the village claimed, Esmeralda was indeed a witch, and the throws of her grief she cast a spell, stopping her from ever making a mistake of falling in love again._

 

_Spells are never simple though. In her anger and pain, Esmeralda’s power grew and the spell became a curse._

 

_Any man or woman who fell in love with a direct descent of her bloodline was doomed to die of a broken heart_

 

* * *

 

“Are you really doing this? Are you sure?”

 

Lance counted out 13 rose petals and added them to the collection of ingredients. I was almost midnight, and Hunk kept looking at the door, as if Mrs. McClain would appear at any moment.

 

It had been two weeks since his father died. Two weeks since he’d seen the curse in action. It had scared him his entire life and now he knew there is no escaping. He might only be ten years old but he was going to make sure his father was the last person he saw die to the curse.

 

Gathering a candle, the last item on his list, he walked out of the workshop, quietly making his way towards the patio door. The house was otherwise silent, his mother and sisters comfortably asleep.

 

“Lance,” Hunk hissed into the silence, drawing his friend’s attention.

 

In the pale light streaming from outside, Hunk looked sad, far sadder than Lance had ever seen him. For a second, Lance really wondered if this was the right thing to do.

 

“Buddy… magic got your family into this, is it really okay to do a spell to stop it?”

 

Lance quietly opened the doors, stepping out into the cool summer air. Hunk followed, and they walked to the center of the grass, Lance placing the items down carefully.

“I never want to fall in love. Not if it kills someone. The curse is too strong, there’s no one who can survive it. I’m not a powerful enough witch to try and fight it, and…I already think I’d fall in love easily. I can’t risk they’d fall for me too. So, instead..”

He held out a sheet of paper to Hunk, allowing him to scan the list. Hunk frowned.

 

"What is…"

 

"It's a wish list. Because someone like that can never be real. And if someone who doesn't exist is my true love, then I'll never hurt anyone."

 

With that he smiled and turned to the items, picking up each and arranging them so he could begin the spell. Slowly, Hunk lowered the paper, placing it down near them.

 

“I don’t need it, but thanks,” Lance said with a laugh. He took it and put it back in the pocket of his jeans. “That’s what’s great about imaginary true loves. You always know who they are.”

 

Hunk didn’t smile, just looked sadly on at his best friend as he prepared.

 

“I’ll be inside when you’re done,” he said quietly, his own eyes brimming as he walked back into the house.

 

Lance nodded, then when he heard the quiet click of the latch he breathed in deeply. He lit the candle, the strike of the match echoing into the night. Then, he began to slowly drop the rose petals into a mixture of basil, cloves, lemon leaves and dandelion root.

 

“I’ll know your face from miles away, even on the darkest night. You’ll always call for me first, and I’ll always answer. You can ride a motorcycle backwards. Your favourite animal is a hippo. You’ll be fierce and brave, but kind and always know how to make me smile. And you’ll have purple eyes.”

 

Lance finished, opening his eyes and looking at the sky. The stars stayed solid, a guiding light that stopped his heart from aching too much. The wind blew, and he shivered, the hum of magic around him fading as the spell released.

 

“I wonder if that worked,” he muttered to himself, picking up the candle but leaving the rest. He was still learning, could do some basic divination and luck charms, but Amas Veritas was far more advanced. He blew out the candle and the low light turned to darkness. He crept back, feeling incredibly lonely, the loss of his father more acute than when he started.

 

He didn’t look back, and therefore didn’t see as the petals slowly started to rise up towards the star-tinted sky.

 

* * *

 

“Are you guys sure this is safe?”

 

Pidge glared at Hunk over the top of their glasses, and he held his hands up in surrender.

 

“It’s just scrying, Hunk,” Lance answered, continuing to layout the map of the city, readying the crystal to start.

 

“I know there’s something weird about that place. I swear they took Rover, and I can’t read any of their thoughts. He’s my familiar, he can’t just disappear, he had to have been corrupted and stolen.”

 

Lance bit his tongue against any retort on having a magically imbued piece of scrap metal as a familiar.

 

“I know, but this is so dangerous. We don’t know what’s in there. What if the Blade find out we’re doing? We aren’t mean to use scrying or seeing for spying on random warehouses!” Hunk cried, becoming more and more agitated.

 

Lance straightened, the crystal in his hand pulsing clear, blinding light for a second before growing dim once more. He smiled, walking over to Hunk and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

“The Blade aren’t interested in small magic, buddy. They’re all about their mission to take down the Galra. They aren’t gonna to care what a bunch of college witches do.”

 

Pidge nodded, along with him.

 

“Besides, they’re just a bunch of emo idiots. Mysterious and shadowy, I bet they don’t know anything about actual magic.”

 

“You’re just mad you didn’t pass their tests,” Pidge replied with a smirk, settling down to look at the spell set up.

 

“Hey! They just don’t get real magic, and I have no interest in showing them the error of their ways,” Lance replied.

 

Truth was, the rejection from the Blade had hurt. He’d wanted to do something with his magic, and joining the organisation responsible for taking down evil spirits would have been brilliant. His mother had taught him all he knew, and a lot of it was traditional spell work, nothing of the fancy tech based magic people like Pidge favoured. But he wouldn’t replace his family knowledge, not for anything in the world. It was just as effective, so why did it matter?

 

Pidge stood, satisfied with their work, and caught sight of the clock on the dorm-room wall as they did.

 

“Wait, it’s Wednesday. Isn't it date night?”

 

Lance paused, but didn’t turn.

 

“We broke up.”

 

Pidge sighed. “Sorry, Lance. She always felt kinda distant, really. You deserve better. And better than that guy last year, what was his name? Urg, not worth remember, he was a dick.”

 

Lance snorted at their bluntness, then turned finally, winking in their direction.

 

“Oh I'm not worried Pidgey. The ladies and gentleman can’t resist me for long.”

 

Hunk said nothing as Pidge groaned. Truly Lance was sad, but he knew it was for the best. Perhaps they hadn’t been the best couple, but it had been going on for almost a year. The longer relationships lasted, the happier the other person seemed, the more Lance worried. He couldn’t look Hunk in the eye though, as he knew how much his friend hated seeing him that way, hated seeing him give up on love completely over a curse that may or may not happen. But he didn’t understand. The curse attacked relentlessly the people his family cared about the most. He wasn’t risking anyone.

 

“Hunk, if you’re not happy with this, you don’t have to stay,” Lance offered with an encouraging smile. Pidge sat down carefully on the opposite side, a steaming bowl of boiling water before them.

 

Hunk stood straighter and steeled himself.

 

“It’s fine. I’ll stay, just in case.”

 

Lance nodded, and walked back to the map, picking up the crystal. Of all three, Lance was the best at scrying, and despite the connection to Rover helping to fuel their magic, Pidge had completely failed. While Lance tried for a location though, she’d use her familiar bond to try and create a window into the place, to see if they could locate it by sight, making it easier to find.

 

As their magics combined, the room felt heavy. Hunk exhaled, his own magic whirring at the activation, but he watched his friends in silence as they concentrated. A cloud of mist appeared above Pidge, and the crystal swayed rhythmically in Lance’s hand for a few minutes.

 

Suddenly it dropped, and the mist started to part, a dark shape of what seemed to be a warehouse appearing as they did.

 

“Whoa,” Lance whispered, all three looking up to see the scene unfold.

“Hunk, can I get some back up?” Pidge asked softly, and as he added his power to theirs, the vision sharpened.

 

Everything gave off a weird purple lighting, and it looked as if there were make-shift cells. Lance felt Pidge stiffen, but didn’t reach out, concentrating instead in maintaining the spell for as long as possible. They moved forward slowly, a weird glowing gold light illuminated the corridor as they turned left.

 

“What is that?” Pidge murmured, and Lance felt his own magic beginning to strain as he forced himself to apply more power and keep the vision clear.

 

Suddenly, the mist went dark. Lance felt his stomach drop, as if he’d plummeting from a great height and then -

 

“WITCHES.”

 

Lance screamed as a burst of raw arcane power went straight through him, his eyes closing as if physically attacked. He opened them to see a figure crawling out of the mist, clawed purple hands reaching towards him. The hands extended, shimmering as they crossed the mist, unable to solidify completely in their space. He could almost see through it, but it’s outline was blurred, each time he focused on it the edges becoming more and more vague.

 

Hunk had jumped against the wall, no longer attached the spell. He couldn't see Pidge, but could feel their magic clinging on. The thing lifted it’s head, and Lance was face to face with one shining yellow eye, and another glowing unnaturally orange, a rune marked across the shredded skin.

 

_Galra._

 

Lance reacted instantly, hand rising and shards of blue tinted energy slamming directly into the thing before it could fully step into the room. It roared, but instantly a green flash appeared, lines across the Galra’s face as it was pulled back towards the portal. However, it still managed to drag itself forward despite Pidge’s restraints. It shot a black webbing towards Lance, who was saved only by Hunk throwing up a shield at the last second.

 

“Thanks, buddy!” he yelled before summoning his power and throwing out four more strikes, directly at the Galra’s face. It screamed, jerked back and he Pidge yelling as they pulled back it’s head with a thick band of magic and dragged it back through the mist.

 

“Close it!” Hunk yelled and both Pidge and Lance slammed down their magic. There was an enraged hiss and a snapping sound then the mist dissipated instantly. All that was left was a large charred circle in the center of their floor tied in with the remains of the map and crystal.

 

The room was silent for a second, all three staring at each other in shock.

 

“Well that’s enough ex-” Lance turned as he spoke then froze. A dark, humanoid shape stood where the web had been thrown. Tall, thin and angular it stood almost to the height of the ceiling. It seemed to gaze down on them until suddenly it tore down the middle like a paper doll, both parts flopping lifelessly into the ground then dissolving.

 

“What was that thing?” Hunk sounded utterly terrified, and Lance couldn’t say he felt any different. Before he could answer though, there was a scream from Pidge and knife at his throat.

 

Lance reacted. Kicked back, straight up, and felt his assailant wince. As they did he jammed his elbow upwards, connecting with flesh sooner than he imagined. Whoever they were, they were around the same height as Lance. He went to spin around when suddenly he was grabbed from behind, and found himself encased in shining white magic, tied like a rope.

 

He looked around. Three figures in black and purple uniforms stood around; a women with white hair, hand outstretched towards him. Hunk was on the floor in a similar bind next to her. By Pidge was a man with grey-streaked dark hair, holding them afloat and rigid with a glowing bionic arm. And in front of him was a dark haired man around Lance’s age, holding a long, magical blade and clutching at his jaw.

 

Hunk groaned.

 

“And you said the Blade wouldn’t be interested.” he muttered.

 

* * *

 

The Blade he’d smacked in the face was called Keith, which was as stupid a name as the haircut he sported. He glared at Lance the entire time, rubbing absently at the bruise forming on his jaw.

 

Allura was the woman who had imobilised him, and Shiro the man with bionic arm. Apparently he knew Pidge’s brother, which had helped their case a little.

 

But only a little.

 

“We have been investigating that area for signs of magic. We followed your trail, although it appears all was finished by the time we arrived,” Allura said after Hunk spilled the entire tale with almost no probing.

 

“The Galra have been seen in that area recently,” Shiro explained. “The Galra are mages who extract life essence from others to fuel their magic. The more they do this, the more they disintegrate. Eventually they become dark spirits, which is what you saw this evening. And why you had trouble fighting it off with your own spells.”

 

“Who uses crystal magic nowadays anyway?” Keith asked staring at the shattered remains of Lance’s spell.

 

“Hey! It works fine, it’s a classic. And who has a mullet nowadays anyway?” Lance taunted. Keith’s jaw clenched.

 

“What is your problem?” he asked, stalking closer.

 

“My problem? You held a knife to my throat! Your friends just restrained us, you tried to kill me,” Okay, so a little dramatic. He hadn’t even broken the skin. But Keith just seemed to annoy him by existing.

 

Keith looked affronted. “I wasn’t trying to kill you! You elbowed me in the face anyway.”

 

Lance smirked “And all the better you look for it,” he answered, feeling smug when Keith’s face turned red with rage.

 

“What you’ve done is ridiculously dangerous, don’t you understand that?” he hissed.

 

“Oh we do, we definitely do. That shadow thing was terrifying.” Hunk interjected with a shudder.

 

The three agents looked at one another. Allura sighed.

 

“About that. We think part of the Galra may still be here, clinging to one or maybe all of you. They have the ability to attach their spirits to individuals they wish to do harm to. It may take a while, but we’ll need to exorcise it. We need to find out exactly who the spirit was before we can do that.”

 

Hunk gulped, and Pidge fiddled with their glasses, looking around.

 

“What do we do?” Lance asked.

 

“You need protecting,” Keith answered. Lance glared, crossing his arms.

 

“I can protect myself, thanks,” He spat. Lance came from a long line of witches. He did not need anyone swooping in and trying to save the day, he could damn well save himself.

 

“We have better resources, and weapons built to fight the Galra,” Keith said, matching Lance’s tone. Lance opened his mouth to argue, when Shiro stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Keith’s shoulder.

 

“There’s not a choice in this. One of us will be watching out for the three of you until we can work out how to remove the spirit permanently.”

 

And with that, there was no more discussion.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Lance was awakened at 9.14am by a pounding on his door. Both Pidge and Hunk had early classes, but Lance had a luxurious morning of sleeping and papering ahead. He cursed under his breath, pulling on a dressing gown and yanking open the door.

 

Keith stood there, a motorcycle helmet in one hand, red and white biking jacket still worn despite the warm morning. His long hair looked vaguely windswept, and he raised an eyebrow at Lance’s sleepy get up.

 

It was unfair for someone to look so attractive this early in the morning. Especially with such a bad haircut.

 

“What do you want, mullet?” Lance’s voice cracked and he inwardly winced at the sound.

 

“Shiro sent me to drop these off on my way to work,” he said, thrusting a paper bag into Lance’s hands. He looked inside to see a box of small cubes with tiny holes in. Lance had never seen anything like them before.

 

“Tell him thank you. What are they though?”

 

Keith looked incredulous.

 

“Are you joking? They’re sage cubes...they work like incense pods, and keep for longer.”

 

Lance felt the rage from last night build up inside him. Keith was talking to him as if he were a child who had no idea how to do a simple spell. He placed the bag down before advancing and jamming his finger into Keith’s chest.

 

“Look, just because you’re some hot shot Blade doesn’t mean you can tell me how to do a spell. I can do a purification ritual just fine, and anyway, bundled fresh sage is more potent so works better to ward off spirits!” he yelled, moving to slam the door.

 

“Wait, no, hold on!”

 

Keith was bodily throwing himself at the door and Lance was tired (Keith was not that strong, no way) so closing the door on him was pretty much futile. Lance gave up quickly, crossing his arms and scowling.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be...offensive. I’ve been a Blade since I was fourteen, I’ve never known traditional magic. I’m not good at this,” he waved his hand awkwardly.

 

“...talking to someone?” Lance asked incredulous.

 

“Um, yeah.”

 

So awkward. It was sort of cute, the shuffling embarrassed Keith mixed with his bad boy biker look. Lance dismissed that thought quickly though, as the guy was too annoying to be cute.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously, thanks. I’ll give them a go.”

 

Keith looked relived.

 

“You should soon, it’s best to try and dispel as much of the energy as you can early on.”

 

Lance rolled his eyes, then moved to usher Keith out of the doorway.

 

“Yes yes, I’ll get on that, buddy. Now leave, I have things to do!”

 

Keith gave him an awkward looking wave as he left, Lance closing the door with a roll of his eyes. Only to jump as a terrible crash came from his room. He ran through the apartment to find one of his shelves had collapsed, right over where he had been sleeping.

 

Time to start that spell.

 

* * *

 

They were being haunted. As much as Lance hated to admit that mullet hot-head was right, there was no question about it. A week had passed since the incident and the trapped remains of the Galra spirit was most likely following all of them. Lance would wake in the dead of night to see glowing eyes above his bed, things moving of their own accord. Pidge had tripped down the stairs three times this week, the majority of the ire focusing on them, as they’d shut off the connection. Hunk had something resembling bad luck; missing buses by seconds, burning food that should have been perfectly cooked, and loosing things. A minor effect, but still showing the spirit’s presence.

 

Lance dug out an old protection charm his mother had given him when he left for university, and slipped it underneath whatever he was wearing that day. It was after class one afternoon when he spotted a familiar looking mullet half way across campus.

 

“No way… It’s him!” he hissed at Hunk, grabbing his arm.

 

Hunk started, looking wildly around. “Who is it?”

 

“Keith!” Lance practically yelled, already starting off toward him.

 

“Who?” Pidge asked in bemusement.

 

“Are you sure?” he heard Hunk call, but he trusted them to follow as he weaved in and out of people, jumping over discarded bags and papers until he stopped, slightly out of breath near the library next to Keith.

 

“How did you see him from the science building?” Pidge wheezed as they caught up.

 

“Oh, I’d recognise that mullet anywhere.”

 

Keith sighed. He was wearing jeans, the red cropped jacket again, sunglasses against the harsh September sunshine and fingerless gloves. Poser.

 

“Well now you’ve found me. It’s my turn to watch out for you today.”

 

“Well, we have a video games tournament to play, where I am going to destroy alll of you-”

 

“Want to come?” Pidge asked. Lance stared at them open mouthed. Keith shrugged. It apparently meant yes.

 

The walk back was awkward, with no-one really knowing what to say with Keith there. Thankfully their place wasn’t too far, and soon Lance was on familiar ground. He dropped to the floor by the TV as the others made themselves at home, plugging in the game and console.

 

“Ever played this?” He asked Keith, holding up the game.

 

Keith shook his head before taking it. “I’m not really into video games.” Lance just laughed as the game started, Hunk hastily explaining the basics of the space racing controls.

 

“Watch me show you who the master is. They call me the tailor as I thread the needle.”

 

Pidge threw just made popcorn at his head, but he ignored at as the four of them chose their ships, and began.

 

Keith won the first race. And the second. And the third and fourth.

 

“Whose the master?” he asked after the fifth time, bumping Lance’s shoulder with his own and grinning. Lance spluttered.

 

“We are playing this again, and I will SHOW YOU.” he yelled, causing Keith to laugh.

 

They played for another two hours, even after Pidge and Hunk left them to watch a movie. Lance still didn’t win a game.

 

* * *

 

After that, Lance started a strange routine of finding Keith and goading him into a challenge. Keith had to be bad at something, especially if was going to walk around stealing Lance’s video game champion title.

 

It had been over a month since the summoning, and although the Blade were apparently working on it, nothing new had been found. The sightings of spirit itself were few and far between, but it’s effects were constant. Lance hadn’t had a good nights sleep in weeks, being woken in the night to strange, malevolent whispering, growing shadows that vanished with light, or glimpses of glowing eyes. It so was unsettling that he had actually grown to look forward to seeing Keith. If he was honest with himself, the competition routine was partly for fun, and also partly a way for making sure Keith had another reason to spend time with him.

 

To find the spirit. Yes, just the spirit.

 

The competition ideas started out simple. Racing to their next destination (often tied, Keith was quick but Lance gets the surprise attack), who could spot the most yellow cars on their walk to Lance's dorm (Lance, but Keith told him it was a dumb game but that was because he was a sore looser) and who could climb higher on one of trees in a park on the way to campus. Although that one was abruptly halted when Lance fell.

"I think I was pushed," he muttered, grabbing the outstretched hand Keith offered. Keith glanced around, looking for any signs of a shadowy figure.

There was none, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the spirit. Lance sighed, feeling suddenly tired.

“I need caffeine,” he called as he started walking towards the nearest coffee shop. Keith jogged to catch up and together they entered a small cafe, ordering drinks then sitting at a table near the back.

“So what’s it really like, being part of The Blade?” Lance asked, taking a sip of his drink, the warmth jolting him back to reality. He picked up the sugar adding a spoonful and moving to stir it as Keith replied.

“Busy. Difficult. We train a lot. I don’t know much else though. Shiro joined up and I followed soon after. He’s my brother,” Keith added at Lance’s questioning look.

“Ooh, cool. I think I’d deliberately not join up to something my siblings did,” he said, watching as Keith laughed.

“I get how you feel. We...” he paused glancing at Lance once before turning to stare out of the window. Lance stayed silent, although he was itching to ask what Keith was thinking.

“Our parents died when we were young. We only had each other. I idolised him, I guess after that. We’d still fight and I hated him for a while but it was different, when we only had each other.”

Lance could actually see that, see a small mulleted version of the man in-front of him clinging to his older brother when there was no-one else. Even though he’d only known Keith for a short while, he could see how hard that had been to say out loud. He let Keith rest in the quiet for a moment, then replied in kind, deciding he needed to share a little of himself to match.

“I’m sorry to hear that, man. My dad died when I was a kid as well. My mum buried herself in her magic; she owns a supply store, our house was always full of bits and pieces. I wanted her to stop being sad so I’d just join her in whatever she was doing. She taught me all I know, and now look, I’m a natural!”

“I can see,” Keith said, head tipping downwards at Lance’s coffee.

Lance looked down to see his spoon, circling madly by itself, sloshing coffee over the sides of the mug.

“Awe, shit,” he muttered, consciously stopping the spell and grasping around for discarded napkins to clean up the mess. He could hear Keith giggling, actually giggling at him. He tried to frown at his companion but the sight of him trying to hide the noises in the palm of his gloved hand was adorable.

_Adorable, stop IT!_ Lance thought to himself. He needed to stop finding this annoying guy attractive. And sweet. And really quite thoughtful even through his awkwardness. Deciding it was best to switch tactics, Lance turned on what he had now dubbed his ‘rival’ voice.

“So, mullet, ready to be taken down in video games this afternoon?”

Keith stopped laughing, but the smile stayed on his face as he leaned backwards on his chair, arms out wide. Challenge accepted pose.

“Lance, you realise you’ve not won a single game since I’ve known you, right?”

“Ah but today is my day mullet, and I will knock that crown off your head!”

Lance did not in fact do that, but he played against Keith until he was too tired to focus anymore, and listened to Keith explain in great detail why the planes they’d chosen as their racers would never be able to actually fly.

He didn’t remember going to bed, but he woke up the next morning snuggled up in his sheets and blankets, with Keith gone. So he must have said goodbye and gone to bed at some point. There was really no other explanation.

 

* * *

 

“So what do you do when you aren’t following me around like a lost puppy?”

 

Lance had seen Keith at the back of the grocery store, and decided he may as well talk to the guy who was on protection duty. Allura and Shiro were way better at the subterfuge thing, he was never able to tell when they were around.

 

“I train mostly,” Keith answered.

 

“Train? Yeah you said you train before, but train ho-”

 

Lance was cut off as a trolley bashed into him, knocking him dangerously close to a display of paint pots. He let out a shriek as he lost his footing, only to be yanked back at the last second by his collar. Spluttering, Lance glared up at Keith, only to see his face obscured by a dark mist. Lance gasped, pulling away. But as soon as it appeared it was gone.

 

“Lance, are you okay?” Keith asked, his sentiment echoed by a terrified woman, who apologised profusely, insisting in helping checking all was well. Her toddler had been the one in charge of the trolley, but Lance laughed and smiled as the little girl stood nervously behind her mother, clutching a soft toy.

 

“Cute hippo,” Keith murmured as the women apologised yet again. Lance frowned then saw the girl was hugging a hippo plushy, and tried not to laugh.

 

“That was close. I saw the shadow for a moment as well,” Lance said once they were alone again. Keith grimaced, then turned to look at Lance.

 

“Perhaps training is a good plan.”

 

* * *

 

Training turned out to be some magical Blade obstacle course that Allura was happy to administer for them when Keith called. They met on a running track used by the university, but empty and occupied by the Blade in the evenings.

 

“Sort of glad I got rejected from the Blade when I see this,” he muttered to himself.

 

“You applied? And didn’t get in?” Lance jumped, not expecting Keith to be standing so close. He laughed nervously.

 

“Yeah. Me and my old fashioned spells.”

 

Keith frowned. “That shouldn’t have been the reason. And I guess, it’s our loss if it is,” he said, before turning and walking to the other side of the room where Allura was setting up. Lance gaped after him. He just...said that. Believed Lance was genuinely good enough to stand on the same level as him. Almost unbelievable, except Keith wasn’t the type of person to say things for the sake of it. He jolted from his daze as Allura waved him over, and he ran to join Keith.

 

“You just need to beat the gladiator using your magic,” Allura called, beginning the incantation. It seemed simple enough to Lance but by the grim look Keith was sporting, it wouldn’t be. His premonition proved correct when Lance was instantly slayed by the gladiator before he could even muster a spell.

 

“At least try,” Keith shouted, still battling his own, then cutting it down with his shimmering knife. Lance watched in awe as the knife extended into a sword, metal turning white and red, flame curling around the blade. Then Keith’s words hit and he scowled.

 

“I wasn’t ready!”

 

It took a few more tries, but soon Lance was able to take down the Gladiators with his long ranged attacks. It worked so well that eventually the two of them were able to double up, completing the first stage of the doubles simulation.

 

“I got you, buddy,” Lance yelled, firing from a top a make shift set of boxes, clearing Keith’s way as he ran past the two Lance disintegrated, and stabbed through the final gladiator of the set. As projection splintered, he jumped down and ran full speed to Keith, who was still smiling at the words ‘cleared’ appeared where the Gladiator had fallen.

 

“Woo!” Lance cheered holding up his hand in celebration, still panting slightly. Keith looked bemused for a second, but then raised his own to high five. Lance grabbed Keith’s had as he did, squeezing it once in the same way he did with Hunk when they high fived.

 

“We did it! We are a good team!”

 

And Keith just stared, his cheeks pink, blush rising higher. Just looked at him, really looked at Lance as they touched hands, and then he smiled. Lance’s own smile widened, just a little at that look, how content and happy Keith, serious mission-focused Keith looked in that second. He gripped his hand tighter again, because he needed to hold on to this second, hold into this moment and hold on to Keith.

 

A dark spike flew out of the ground and sliced across Lance’s shoulder, tearing through is jacket and burning into his flesh. He cried out, creating a blue-tinged shield just in time to reflect the next set of spikes, raining down hard, barreling against his magic.

 

A large orange orb appeared before him as the spikes continued their onslaught, searching, twisting around. Lance recognised it instantly as the eye of the creature that attacked them, with the sense it was seeking him out in particular.

 

All at once, the barrage stopped as if it never began, the eye vanishing. Tentatively Lance dropped the shield, only to see Keith in a similar state. Lance rushed over, Allura joining them a second later as Lance helped Keith to his feet.

 

“Are you okay?” Lance asked, eyes roving over him. A spike of panic went through him as he noticed blood pooling from Keith’s shoulder.

 

“It’s fine, Lance. I’m okay. It’s not that deep,” he added, as Lance’s look of concern did not budge.

 

“Let’s get cleaned up. And then I need to show you something,” Allura said from Keith’s other side, both of them nodding in agreement.

Allura led them to a small kitchen, and Lance set about making tea while the two of them continued discussing what had happened at length. To Lance’s surprise, the kitchen also stocked herbs and some spell ingredients, so he set to work preparing a draft his mother used to make for minor injuries.

He returned with two steaming mugs, handing one each to Keith and Allura. Keith had the unmistakable aura of a healing spell around him, so Lance’s worry subsided a little. They thanked him for the drinks, and Keith raised his eyebrows as he took a sip.

“Speeds up healing,” Lance replied with a shrug, wondering for a second if he’d overstepped. But then Keith smiled, that small curve of his lips lighting up his face.

“It tastes amazing,” he replied, and Lance couldn’t stop himself from blushing.

"It changes depending on the person, it's meant to be soothing," he mumbled, feeling Keith's eyes on him.

The sound of a throat clearing drew Lance's attention. He turned to see Allura smiling from the other side of the room. However, once both their attentions were on her, it fell.

"I think I know what we're dealing with here. I think the spirit that's haunting the three of you is Sendak," she said, pulling up an image on the screen as she spoke. Lance visibly shuddered.

"Yeah, that's what tried to climb through the portal," he confirmed. Allura signed.

"I feared as much. When I saw the eyes a moment ago, I recongised it. The good news is, now we know we can exorcise him. We should be able to do that tomorrow, in the place you first conjured him. The bad news is he's getting more powerful the longer he stays here, so you need to be careful."

Lance nodded, arm stinging slightly in memory of what he'd narrowly avoided. He looked at Keith, feeling the guilt and sadness rise at his injury. Allura was speaking again, so he turned his attention back to her

"I'll discuss with Shiro, and we'll arrive sometime in the evening to set up. Keith, are you okay to see Lance home?"

"Oh no, I'm fine, and you should get your arm properly looked at," he tried, but Keith was already standing.

"You drink helped. It's fine, it's not far."

Apparently that was all there was to it, and before Lance could even think of anything further to say, he found himself walking side by side with Keith into the dark. It really was only a short walk, but Lance found himself warily staring at every shadow, waiting for that creature, for Sendak to jump out.

Keith swung his back over one shoulder, and in the faint street light, Lance noticed a faded charm attached to it. He snorted.

"You really do like hippos," he said, remembering the little girl earlier today. Keith grinned.

"I used to collect anything with hippos on. Shiro gave me the first one after our parents died, probably as he was only fifteen and didn't know how to make a seven year old happy. From then on, no matter where we moved, I kept buying them."

"Is this the one he gave you?" Lance asked. Keith nodded, and Lance couldn't help but smile. Keith, who looked broody and standoffish in every situation, who was really competitive to a fault, ridiculously brave and a dork who collected hippos and got obsessed with video games.

_You’ll be fierce and brave, but kind..._ _Your favourite animal will be a hippo._

Lance stumbled, thankfully recovering before Keith noticed.

It couldn't be. He hadn't thought about the spell words since the night in the garden, but they came back to him as they turned into his street. It was just a co-incidence. Sure, he was already starting to fall but Lance was allowed to do that, could do that. He'd made the spell to ensure this wouldn't happen, and there was no way that person existed.

They stopped outside Lance's door. It felt...strange, the same static collecting in the air as if he was about to use his powers, blow out every street light or send ice through the floor. Nervous, excited but most importantly, on the edge of his seat with anticipation.

Keith turned to him. His heart beat in his ears.

"I...how's your arm?"

"What?" Lance replied, then "Oh! yeah it barely grazed it, I'm fine. You actually got stabbed."

"It feels a lot better, actually. Your drink honestly did help."

They were moving closer together, Lance noticed. He swallowed, and saw Keith's gaze follow the motion. The air thickened.

_I need to kiss him_ , Lance thought, really not sure how to start that sort of conversation, but it seemed to be leading that way if he could only-

"Then kiss me." 

"I...said that out loud  _oh my god_..." Lance whined, but Keith was blushing and he looked happy, so it couldn't have been that bad really. 

So he did it. He kissed him. And it was better than any magic in the world. Keith's lips were chapped and it started at a weird angle because they were both nervous and both testing things. Then it was amazing, spark and delight, the pressure of Keith returning the kiss sending pleasant trickles of warmth through his spine.

Eventually, they had to stop, Lance pulling away and resting his forehead against Keith's. He looked up, smiling, knowing he looked like an idiot, but Keith smile matched his own, his eyes twinkling.

Eyes that, in the dim street light, shone a deep mauve.

Lance slammed himself backwards.

"No...no no no no," he whispered, whole body shaking. Keith's face moved between looking confused and scared, then turning around looking for an attack he'd missed.

"You..your eyes are purple," Lance began and he could hear the tears in his voice. Keith turned back to him.

"Yes? Or at least they look so sometimes, I think?"

Lance swallowed. "Have you...have you ever ridden a motorbike backwards?"

Keith was still carefully peering at him, but took a couple of steps tentatively towards him. Lance stepped back, and he stopped.

"Once, when I was sixteen actually. Didn't keep balance for long though. How did you know?"

Lance closed his eyes. The emotions from just a few minutes ago fading into nothing. He was numb, he needed to be numb. Needed to run out of this situation before Keith got hurt.

"You're here because of a spell. All this," he gestured between them, "Isn't real. I made it happen."

"What are you talking about?" Keith said, incredulous. Lance opened his eyes. He stepped forward, back into Keith space, hating how much better he felt in Keith's presence.

"I told you about my father. He died from a curse. My whole family is cursed, it goes back generations. Anyone who falls in love with us will die of a broken heart. So when I was a kid, I cast Amas Veritas, wishing for some imaginary person so I'd never be able to hurt anyone. Someone who could never exist."

He gazed at Keith, at the person who embodied everything he could ever have wished for, right here in front of him.

"But...you do."

The wind blew. Silence followed, and Lance could feel himself breaking apart at the seams despite his forced numbness.

"I don't believe in curses."

Lance stared and Keith stared right back, the familiar look of grim determination on his face.

"I've never seen a curse. Evil spirits, magic with bad intentions, magic with good intentions gone wrong...but curses don't exist. They only have power when people believe in them."

Lance opened his mouth to counter him, but before he could Keith swooped forward, resting his forehead against Lance's.

"And don't tell me this isn't real. These feelings aren't real. Lance, I...I like you." But Lance shook his head against Keith, although he was loath to break the contact.

"I wrote a list, I wished for you."

"You were a kid, and I'm a year older than you. I already existed, you didn't create me."

But Lance found his strength, and broke away. He walked up the steps to his flat, hands shaking as he took out his keys.

"You need to go. You need to stay away from me." He didn't turn back to look at Keith as he spoke.

"Lance, come on, don't-"

"Good night Keith. Stay away. Or you'll get hurt. Someone always gets hurt."

And with that he fumbled once with the lock, walked through the door and slammed it shut.

 

* * *

 

Lance barely slept and didn't bother getting out of bed while Pidge and Hunk started making breakfast the next morning. Shiro had called; the exorcism was planned for nine that evening. So Lance had almost ten hours of wallowing before him.

He heard a crash and a shriek in the kitchen that made him sit up abruptly. Before he could get out of bed, Hunk wandered in, looking traumatised, wiping himself down with a dishcloth.

"I just got attacked by food. Food, man! This exorcism better work."

Lance managed a smile, then flopped back onto the bed. Hunk sat down gently beside him. He said nothing, just waiting for his friend to speak. After a few minutes Lance sighed, and handed over the crumbled piece of aged paper he'd been holding all night.

"Ah, so you realised," Hunk replied.

"Realised what?" Pidge asked, entering the room. Lance gazed them for a second, then sat up, recounting his family history, the spell and the discussion with Keith last night.

"I worked it out when you kept being able to see him when no-one else could. You literally can find him from miles away, it's eerie."

"Well, he needs to stay far away. I don't care what he says, it's for the best."

Pidge frowned down at the list, then sat up straighter.

"I do think Keith has a point though. Magic isn't straightforward, so I wouldn't be surprised if your spell or the curse don't work how you think they do."

Lance turned away, looking back at the ceiling. He wanted to believe his friends, but what was the point? He'd seen first hand what the curse could do. There was no way of fighting it.

 

* * *

 

The doorbell rang at precisely 9pm. The hours had passed quickly, almost too quickly for Lance’s liking, and sooner than he realised they were helping Allura set up for the exorcism.

“It will work best of all of us are present. The more power we have, the better. Is everyone happy with that?” Shiro asked, primarily addressing Pidge, Hunk and Lance. The three nodded, varying shades of fear coursing through them.

“I need more salt, if you have it?” Allura called.

“Coming right up!” Lance offered, disappearing into the small store cupboard where most of their spell supplies were kept. Grabbing two boxes, he turned to see Keith standing near the doorway. His eyes shown purple in the light, and Lance wondered how he’d ever missed it before.

“We need to talk,” Keith said, following as Lance shoved past him.

“There’s nothing more to say. And you should keep your distance,” Lance said, looking over his shoulder. He walked back directly towards where the others were finishing setting up, when Keith moved past, spinning in front of him.

He looked devastated. Lance could see the pain on his face, see how much this was hurting. His own eyes closed, and he felt gloved hands slide up the sides of his face.

“I wished for you too, you know,” Keith whispered. Lance’s breath caught.

“I wished for someone to see me when no-one else could. To pick me first. Someone strong, and brave and loving. Because I never had any of that. Someone who would always have my back, and break down my walls. I may not have cast a spell, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t wish to find you, Lance.”

Lance could barely breathe, feeling his face start to sting. He was going free-fall, hard and fast for Keith who he knew he’d love without a care in the world if he let himself. Which was why it was so dangerous, and why he needed to stop it now.

He stepped back. “We need to get rid of Sendak,” was all he said.

Keith closed his eyes and stepped aside. Lance steadied himself internally, and walked into the room, handing the salt to Allura, and joining her in finishing the circle. It didn’t take long. Once finished, the six of them stood in a circle around the scorch mark. The air already seemed to ignite, knowing what was about to happen.

“Stay focused,” Shiro’s voice commanded, a steady presence in the building pressure. “Don’t let go of the person next to you.”

Lance squeezed Allura and Hunk’s hands, feeling them return the gesture. Across the circle, he could see Keith glance at him, but quickly looked away. _Concentrate_ , Lance whispered to himself.

“Alright team, let’s do this!” Shiro called, and Lance the out his power, feeling the others in the room do the same. White, red, blue, green, yellow and pink auras of power melded into the circle, the combination making his sense inflame, his hair moving in created breeze as they pulled together.

But then, it came. Bubbling out of the centre a dripping pair of hands reached out, clawing at the ground. Lance reached deep within himself, blue light burning, seeking to rid them of this evil. The glowing orange eye appeared, and he tried not scream, holding on tighter, ignoring the rapid pull of the dark thing. Sendak battered hard against their magic, matching then backing down, then roaring into full power against them.

A cry from across the circle caught his attention. _Keith_. He was bent over, the clawed arm pushing against the wound from last night, preying on the only injured member of their party.

“No you don’t! Not him!” Lance screamed and poured everything into the spell in a shattering stream of lilac light, stealing the breath from his lungs, the moisture from his mouth and the beat of his heart. He realised in that moment, he would give anything, his most important parts to make sure they all lived.

So he poured in the fear from the first time his mother told him of the curse. The tears from his father’s funeral, from his aunt’s funeral, the loss of the grandfather he never knew. The times he pushed away a chance at feeling anything. The wishes for purple eyes and a fierce soul. And that smile Keith gave him, and only him, which was the last thing he saw as he closed his eyes.

* * *

 

_It was cool on the cliff edge, but not unpleasantly, and the small girl threw daisies over her head to watch them dance. The woman beside him laughed, and Lance joined i_ _n_ _. She turned her_ _crystal blue eyes upon him._

“ _I am so very tired.” her voice an echo of a memory._

“ _Me too,” he shared and she laughed again._

“ _But you are_ _just_ _getting started. I have walked in your blood for so long that I can barely remember what my own life was like.”_

_The world was calm and clear, a day like no other. She continued to look at him._

“ _Magic works in strange ways._ _I cursed our bloodline when all I wanted was to stop the pain of love._ _You who were so terrified of love have set me free. Have given the very part of what makes us who we are to save those you care about.”_

_A clawed shadow behind her. She flicked her hand, it vanished with a shriek._

“ _A_ _heirloom_ _curse for spirit of power. A fair trade.”_

_Lance frowned. He could hear voices. He knew them. But they were so far away, and this blank place was oddly comforting._

_Esmeralda_ shook her head, the voices growing as she did.

“ _Let him love you. Let yourself be loved._ _You both wished to find each other, and by magic or miracle you did. Embrace that, finally, no matter how it may end._ _Set us free, Lance.”_

_L-...La…_

_H_ _e knew that voice..._

_LANCE_

* * *

“Keith?” he muttered, opening his eyes to find himself on the floor of his own apartment.

There was a scrambling sound, and then a familiar dark shock of hair appeared, Keith looming above him.

_Let yourself love him._

And Lance smiled, despite his head and bones aching, lifting his hands and grabbing that horrible mullet to pull Keith down into a kiss.

_Let him love you._

Keith responded barely a second later, and Lance felt himself falling deeper and deeper, but this time he didn’t care. It didn’t matter because there was nothing left to fear, and even if there had been, he understood now that some things were more important.

He vaguely heard mumblings and steps as the others left the room, but ignored them in favour of kissing Keith.

“I used the curse to bind the spirit. I don’t really know how but I did, and it’s gone.” He was babbling now, Keith peppering kissed to his head as he spoke. They would need to talk about this and Lance would need to make sure he really had set their bloodline free, but for now, this was his universe.

Keith helped him up into a sitting position, pulling Lance into his lap.

“I don’t believe in curses, Lance.” he said, placing a kiss onto Lance’s forehead.

Lance nodded kissing him again, because it didn’t matter any more, as there was more power in their potential than anything he could have ever imagined.

Or even wished for.


	9. Day 10: youtubers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for all the support! It's great so many of you are enjoying these. 
> 
> It's rather obvious what I was watching when I planned this...
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)

Keith sat back on the sofa in his and Allura’s apartment as she leaned forward and started the footage. He watched as both their faces appeared, Allura’s at forefront.

 

“Hey guys, welcome back to my channel! I’m joined by my lovely roommate Keith, who some of you know from his channel Mystery Breaker. Today we’re doing a joint cast on the recent satellite photos from Kerberous, as Keith’s brother is actually a member of the crew!”

 

Keith grinned as the show continued, answering Allura’s queries and pointing out one or two parts they should edit. The two had been friends for years, first meeting each other in their last year of university, at a small get together of local students who were trying to start their own youtube channels. Now, almost four years later the two of them had their own shows and audiences, as well as being roommates.

 

“All set for con this weekend?” he asked as she finished the list of tweaks she needed to make.

 

“I still can’t believe I’m on a panel! I think so though. It’s quite intimidating.”

 

“Want to run through anything with you?” Allura’s eyes lit up at the request, and she pulled up her notes for the day.

 

“This should cover it, barring any questions. If you don’t mind looking at my plans that would be great. We should also plan what we want to go to, make sure we don’t miss anything.”

 

Keith nodded absently, already absorbed in Allura’s notes on the screen.

 

“I don’t really think there’s much going on before 10am on Saturday so we could-”

 

“Wait, what that’s not what we said!” Keith answered, her words suddenly registering. He turned only to see Allura smirking deviously.

 

Busted.

 

“Urg. I hate you,” he said, flopping back on the coach while she laughed.

 

“Don’t worry, I promise we’ll go to the morning yoga class. But you have to talk to him afterwards.”

 

Keith grimaced. This whole situation had been Allura’s fault. Last year, he’d injured his hip while marathon training, and the physio recommended yoga to help aid in his recovery. Knowing nothing about that type of exercise, he’d turned to Allura, who was happy to share some of her favourite videos.

 

“You should try a few of these and if you like them, we can do a class together. There’s a place that just opened down the road, it would be great to check it out!”

 

Not prepared for how excited she would be at the prospect of having a workout buddy, Keith resolved to at least give the videos a go. He played a couple, trying to get his body to fold into dog and cat and pigeon (of all things) shapes, while trying to breath unnaturally and ‘feel’ the universe guiding him. He was pretty sure the universe was just telling him this was a stupid idea by the time he finished.

 

He promised himself he’d give it a shot though, so clicked on the last of the three videos she’d sent. He was surprised when, instead of being greeted by a lululemon clad smiling women like he was used to, a tanned guy wearing a loose white vest and shorts filled the screen.

 

“Hey team, welcome back to yoga with Lance! We’re gonna go through the basics today for all those lovely beginners out there, but for the more advanced yogis don’t skip out! It’s important to revisit these from time to time.”

 

Keith found himself staring, mouth slightly open through the intro and had to jump up quickly when the positions started. Lance was cute. Really cute, and he seemed happy and excited about the video in a genuine way that drew Keith in, unlike the zealous, over the top vibe some work out videos had.

 

He also made the steps easy to follow, and continued to encourage viewers to do what was comfortable and offering modifications. In no time, the fifteen minute session was up, and Lance waved dorkily at the camera as the video ended. Keith snorted from his position in shavasana on the floor. Over the next few weeks, he worked his way through Lance’s extensive video collection, learning the basics, finding that it actually was helped with the healing and his own flexibility. He told Allura as such when asked.

 

“Ah, you went for Lance! I actually know him, we met at a video skills class last year. We’re meeting up in a couple of weeks, you should come!”

 

Keith turned red and declined. It was one thing to watch his videos, learn the moves and occasionally stare at how flexible the guy was, but actually meeting him in person? Not Keith’s strong point.

 

Allura peered down at him. “You think he’s cute.”

 

Keith spluttered, which was all the confirmation she needed.

 

“Then you should definitely come along! I actually think you’d get on well, come on Keith!

 

But he still declined, and did so the next few times Allura tried to persuade him to join the two of them. He did however go to a few yoga classes with Allura, and became a pro at Lance’s videos.

 

It was after completing the last of a 30 day challenge that he decided he may as well subscribe. He clicked on the button, left his laptop and went to shower. When he returned, there was a notification on his account.

 

**YogaWithLance has subscribed to your channel.**

 

“What the fuck,” he whispered, before turning and running head first out of the room. He skidded to halt in front of Allura’s door. Checking there was no ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, he threw it open.

 

“He subscribed to my channel, what the hell? He knows who I am?!”

 

It was then he realised Allura’s camera was up, her computer screen showing him standing in her door way and the back of her head turned towards him. She was staring at him in shock.

 

“You...you’re not live are you?” his voice was ridiculously high and quiet.

 

A moment of silence then she collapsed into a fit of laughter, managing to shake her head ‘no’ despite it. Keith relaxed slightly, leaning against the door frame. As Allura calmed, she turned off the camera and swiveled around to face him.

 

“That’s going in my outtakes by the way.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

 

“Do you even know me?”

 

Keith groaned, resting his head against the wall because, yes he did know Allura.

 

“I take this is Lance? Of course he knows you, I talk about you. But he’d seen your channel even before we’d met. He thinks your scepticism is hilarious.”

 

Keith frowned, not sure if that was a compliment or not. It wasn’t really what he was aiming for in his videos.

 

“Seriously, you should meet him. He’s running a live yoga class at Con next month, so at the very least we should go and say hi afterwards. No excuses this time, we are both going anyway so you can’t avoid it.”

 

Which is how Keith had reluctantly agreed to meet up with Lance after doing his yoga class this Saturday. He was actually excited about the class itself; wanted to see if it was any different from taking part in the videos at home. Plus, with a lot of people taking part, it wasn’t as if Lance would see him personally.

 

And if he just didn’t think about the meeting afterwards, all would be fine.

 

But as the two of them made their way to the yoga set up on Saturday morning, Keith nerves began to jangle. The hall where the class was taking place had a small stage at the front, and yoga mats already set up in rows. There were limited spaces, so only about twenty people in total would be taking part. The room was already half full, and Allura grabbed his hand, marching them to the third row from the front in the centre.

 

“This is a little close...” Keith muttered, looking around nervously.

 

“Well, if we get stuck on the sides we won’t be able to see. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fun!” Allura said brightly, shaking his shoulder gently.

 

Keith nodded mechanically, pulling the hair elastic from his wrist and scraping his hair into a stubby ponytail. By the time he had finished a few stretches, the room was full and class was about to begin.

 

“Welcome everyone! Thanks for joining me on this beautiful morning, don’t you all look gorgeous!”

 

Keith tried not to stare to hard as Lance appeared. He was smiling brilliantly, blue eyes shining with pure excitement as he waved at the crowd who cheered. Allura wolf whistled, and to Keith’s horror Lance immediately turned to at the sound.

 

He spotted them. There was no mistaking the way his eyes widened in recognition. Keith’s face started to heat up, unsure what to do under such scrutiny.

 

Lance smiled, and then winked. Actually winked. At him. Well, them actually. Allura started giggling, but Lance was already walking away, running through what he planned to do for the session. Keith ran his hands over his cheeks, willing his blush away as he moved to the foot of his mat.

 

It was easy to get lost in the class. He was used to Lance’s voice guiding him through the positions, offering encouragement and praise. But this time it was more personal, actually being able to see what his audience was doing.

 

Once or twice is actually felt as if Lance was directing the instructions just at him. Reassuring it was okay when Keith dropped out of tree pose, his eyes closed. Shouting “just two more breaths, you can do it!” when his arms were shaking in extended triangle, and telling them how great they all looked when Keith finished a particularly fast sequence.

 

Too soon, the class was over. Lance waved goodbye and bowed with a dramatic flourish. Allura laughed, and Keith rolled his eyes as he clapped, but smiled all the same. It had been good fun.

 

“Come on, no backing out now!” and then Allura was pulling him forward, past those getting ready to leave and towards the stage.

 

Keith’s heat started to beat faster than it ever had during the class, the world focusing on where Allura was pulling him along, back around the stage, past a security guard who gestured towards a small room. Allura knocked.

 

“Lance, it’s me. I brought Keith too,” Allura yelled, smirking at Keith over her shoulder as she said his name.

 

There was a strange muffled sound on the other-side of the room, then the door flew open.

 

_Lance_. Up close he was just as cute, ever present smile and bring blue eyes. He had changed into a more casual jeans and blue log-sleeved top. Allura swooped in and hugged him, telling him how great the class was.

 

“And this is Keith, but of course you know him from his channel.”

 

Lance turned bright red and hissed something at Allura, while Keith stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do.

 

“Umm...fun session,” he said, fiddling with his bag. He was very conscious of still being in his gym kit.

 

Lance’s face had turned back to it’s normal colour and he smiled.

 

“Thanks! You seemed to be holding your own. Even through the more difficult poses.”

 

Keith felt his competitive mode rise before he could control it.

 

“Could have done with a few more advanced ones,” he said with a shrug.

 

Lance’s smile grew, his eyes taking on a sparkle of challenge as he stepped forward into Keith’s space. It was a good look on him.

 

“Oh really? Think you could keep up?”

 

“Most definitely,” Keith replied feeling his own smile grow.

 

A clap from behind shocked them both, Keith so much he actually jumped a little. He’d forgotten Allura was there. She beamed at them both, hands clasped in front of her.

 

“Well, I have a panel to get ready for, but maybe I can meet you both for lunch after I’m done. I’ll be in hall 3, from 11.30-12.30. See you later!”

 

She was gone before Keith could do anything further, the sudden knowledge he was alone with Lance weighting on him. He could feel himself starting to worry about what to say next already, let alone what he was going to do until Allura was finished.

 

“So, wanna explain exactly why ghosts aren’t real but aliens definitely are?”

 

Keith glanced back at Lance in surprise.

 

“You...watched the video?” he asked. He knew Lance had subscribed and Allura said he’d watched but it was another thing entirely to hear him admit it himself.

 

“Yeah, but I wanna know exactly why you think that. Come on, I know there’s another story there.”

 

“How long do you have?” Keith said with a laugh, part wanting to warn Lance off. But Lance just shrugged openly.

 

“Apparently until the princess is done with her talk. Plus I’m starving, couldn’t eat breakfast before. Come on, Keithy, tell me about aliens while I go find some eggs,” he said, taking the wrist Allura had been using to drag him around, throwing another wink in his direction as they left.

 

Keith smiled to himself, the straightened and moved to walk beside Lance, launching into the story.

 

Neither noticed when Lance moved from holding his wrist to the two of them lightly intertwining their fingers as they walked.


	10. Day 11: Historical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Short drabble today. Please take note of the new tags/warnings before reading.

The mud thickened with blood, his bayonet stained and rusted. Guns raged; the screaming was a shrill accompaniment to their incessant flash and fire. Dirt launched into the sky like birds taking flight, wire traps held their prisoners who died choking on blood and metal.

 

Keith lay dead in his arms. A bullet had taken out his chest without a thought, and his eyes; those beautiful sparkles of life that had drawn Lance inevitably to him at first glance. They were open and dull now, nothing left to see.

 

It had been quick. One moment he was charging forward, barking instruction and the next thrown back into Lance with no life left. In instant. An eye blink. All it took to take everything from Lance.

 

He didn’t see a point in moving. They had tanks; monsters made machine and Lance was just one man with a brittle knife strapped to a gun holding his lover’s lifeless body. This was a massacre, it had been since the moment they’d gone over the top. How far was he from the trench? Time was lost in death and bullets.

 

So he pulled Keith’s cooling body too him, breathed in his scent and sighed to the heavens as his knees sunk into the bloody ground.

 

And the tanks kept advancing, and the bullets kept on firing, but held on tight to the last thing he ever wanted to see in the last place he’d ever thought he’d die.


	11. Day 12: Role reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Something happier for day 12.

Lance regretted everything. Every single thing that had lead him to this point. Inheriting his mother’s stubborn personality; his unhealthy competitive streak from having a huge family and wanting to stand out; meeting Keith Kogane three years ago and letting said idiot get under his skin.

The office was full of papers, schedules and random documents which made no sense. How did anyone work like this?!

“Lance, I need today’s schedule before the morning meeting in ten minutes.”

Lance looked up in despair. Shiro was looking at him with a mixture of pity and amusement, one that said ‘you brought this upon yourself but I’m not going to go easy on you’. Lance plastered a smile on his face and made a mock salute.

“Coming right up, chief!”

Shiro nodded, looking a little worried and continuing down the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight, Lance started scrambling around, trying to find the scheduling document.

It all began when Lance’s jab about Keith standing around doing nothing at kids club last week had managed to spark off a conversation of whose role was most demanding. Lance spent all his time running after kids, playing particularly long and involved games with intricate plots, or making sure no one did/ate/said anything they weren’t supposed to. Keith focused on admin, enabling Shiro to make sure everything worked as it should, helped the general running of each session and led group activities.

Lance knew Keith did a good job, he honestly did and knew he was basically Shiro’s right hand man. It was just fun to wind him up. And of course when Keith retaliated, Lance just had to defend himself.

Pidge ended up breaking the argument by suggesting that, next Saturday, they swap jobs for the morning. Then they could prove by experience whose job was easier. Shiro had reluctantly agreed after stating that any issues and they’d immediately switch back. However, Lance did catch him telling Keith it would be a good development opportunity to do a more hands on role, so he obviously wasn’t too concerned.

Lance admired Shiro, and wanted to do a good job today, prove he was capable at whatever he turned his hand to. He also wanted to impress Keith. Not only because Keith was a capable worker, but because they maybe sort of might be dating.

Kind of. It was early days. As in, so early Lance wasn’t really sure if calling Keith his boyfriend in his head and planning their one year anniversary was a little bit weird. It had only been 2 months since he’d blurted out his confession (he’d had a plan alright, but Keith was doing that thing where he flicked his hair and laughed and it just all came pouring out) and they’d gone on several dates, held hands on most of them and had that one incredible make-out session 2 days ago.

However, Lance had been in this position before. It didn’t necessarily mean it was going where he imagined and hoped it would. He’d been shot down badly before when he thought it was leading somewhere, so until he actually heard from Keith if he wanted to be a couple, then he needed to control his imagination.

So, this challenge was also a little confusing as it was the first time they’d gone this far one upping each other since they’d started their maybe-dating-definitely-kissing-possibly-future-boyfriends thing. Did that make it different? It certainly heightened Lance’s determination to do well.

That could be a good thing. Or a terrible thing.

But for now, he needed to find the damn schedule in this mess of an office. Keith had been mentioning it really needed a sort out, but as they only used the school on weekends and in the summer, there was only so much they were allowed to do. It was then that Lance noticed a filing cabinet with neat, symmetric writing that could only belong to one person.

He whooped, jumping up and pulling open the draws to find the familiar folder where the schedules and kid’s information were kept. He grabbed it, closed the cabinet door and ran out of the room.

He made it to the staff room just in time for the morning briefing. Shiro gave him a relieved smile as he handed over the folder, then called the room to order. Heart calming back down, Lance gave a small wave to Hunk and Pidge on the opposite side of the room, before locking eyes with Keith. He was leaning against the wall, smirking and looking directly at Lance. Lance narrowed his eyes and put on his most charming look. Keith rolled his eyes and turned to look at Shiro, causing Lance to have to stifle his giggle.

“Okay, that’s all the new info for you all. Pidge, Nyma, Keith and Axca, I’m going to put you on one-to-ones with kids. Hunk and Allura, can you both set up a drop in painting activity and some simple baking as they’ve given us the studio and kitchen this morning. And Lance, we’ll do a final group activity with the parachute.”

Lance resisted the urge to cheer. The parachute was the best group game; while he usually did one-to-one sessions, it would be so much fun to run one with the entire group.

Shiro finished the briefing, then Lance stood, walking towards Keith who started to rummage through the kids’ files, looking at the info on Katherine, who he’d be looking after.

“She’s sweet, and very energetic. May try to run away from you though. Her allergies are listed, which is probably the main thing to worry about,” Lance said, pointing down at the list.

Keith nodded, looking seriously at the paper for a moment. Then he turned his eyes upwards. Lance was lost for a moment, considering asking how he’d slept, if he’d eaten breakfast or kissing his cheek in hello. Something utterly romantic and smooth, of course, that would get Keith to blush or smile back, just for him.

“So, barely found the right folder in time. Still think my role here is easy?”

On second thoughts, why did he like this guy again?

“Well, anyone would suffer in that room, and your handwriting is so small it’s a miracle I can even see that cabinet!” Lance remarked, pulling away and offering Keith a wave.

“Good luck trying to entertain Kat for 2 solid hours alone, and getting her to eat an appropriate snack!” he called sweetly, feeling satisfied when Keith’s triumphant look turned to one of nerves. Lance turned back and almost walked straight into Shiro.

“Ah, there you are. I need you to go through and check some of the data we have is still accurate. Keith’s been working to make sure everything is kept securely online, but it’s hard to get the parents to hang around for long enough each week. If you can try and grab a few now, then enter the data on the system this morning, that would be great.”

Lance tried not to grown, but was sure Shiro caught the face he made anyway.

“It’s not that bad. It will be over in no time,” Shiro said, clapping Lance on the back which only made him stumble a tiny bit.

 

* * *

 

It was actually far more exhausting than he anticipated. Lance managed to catch three sets of parents at drop off time, who helpfully added new information for their records. It was quite fun catching up with the parents rather than just their children, but the forms were fairly extensive and the IT at the school slow as hell. Half way through, Allura had interrupted asking for help finding more supplies for the painting activity. After locating them, aiding in the set up and encouraging a few kids with their creations, he found himself back in the office and finishing the paperwork.

 

“Hows it going?”

 

Lance looked up to see Keith at the doorway, a plate in front of him. Lance groaned.

 

“Why is the system so sllooowww,” he moaned, dropping his head to the desk, avoiding all the other bits and pieces he wasn’t allowed to touch.

 

A chuckle, then suddenly Lance felt Keith’s fingers cautiously touch the back of his head, just for a moment. Lance stayed very still, and soon enough the touch returned, Keith starting to scratch his fingers carefully across Lance’s scalp. It felt nice, really nice and Lance was glad Keith wasn’t able to see how red his face was turning.

 

“Yeah, you’d think they’d have a decent connection.” Keith continued his ministrations, for a moment, then.

 

“Does Kat always run into the mud? Or is that just with me?”

 

Lance snorted then sat up, Keith’s hand falling from his hair as he moved. Lance’s eyes roamed over him, taking in the disheveled state of his hair, the mud fleck’s on his trousers and the streak of dirt missed from his cheek.

 

“It’s a hazard, you have to see it coming early.”

 

Keith scrunched up his nose in distaste, an adorable expression in Lance’s eyes. Suddenly Keith pulled the plate towards them both, 2 vaguely circular biscuits set on them.

 

“Here. She said we had to make one for you too.” Keith turned away, mumbling the explanation and turning pink. Lance grinned, wondering if it was true.

 

He picked it up and took a bite. Keith turned back and did the same. It was quite dry and crumbled everywhere as they ate, but still good.

 

“Well you can tell Kat thanks, and that I finished it all,” he said with a grin, popping the last bite in his mouth. Keith grinned as he chewed and without thinking, Lance lifted his hand to rub at the smudge of dirt left on his cheek. Keith’s pupils widened, face drawing closer to Lance’s hand as he moved. Lance could feel himself getting flustered as Keith leaned into him.

 

“You missed some mud,” Lance explained, his voice lower than he expected. Keith was drawing ever closer, leaning down on the table.

 

Lance knew the kiss was coming, but it still shocked him when it happened. Everything about this still surprised him, still made his limbs tingle with the newness of everything that was them. He could still count their kisses, still recall each new experience that was Lance and Keith. And he revelled in it, enjoying the press of lips, the way Keith’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, the way his whole body both relaxed and coiled forward with every touch.

 

“Ew, there are children around!”

 

They broke the kiss rapidly as Pidge’s voice echoed from the doorway. Lance sighed.

 

“Yes?” he answered, aware that Keith seemed to have frozen awkwardly half on top of him.

 

“Shiro wants to start the parachute game soon, so stop making out with your boyfriend and get set up.”

 

“Not my boyfriend, but yes, fine.” Lance replied.

 

Pidge gave him a weird look and backed out the room, a strange reaction as Pidge was usually one to hang around after teasing. It was only when turning around to remark on this to Keith that he noticed the blank expression on his face.

 

No, not blank; Lance knew him too well for that. It was the mask he put in place whenever he was annoyed or upset and trying to hide it.

 

“So, I’m not your boyfriend now?”

 

_Oh no._

 

“Um, no… I mean yes, not no, but also no...we haven’t talked about it!”

 

Keith had managed to place a lot of distance between them while Lance flapped around trying to put thoughts into words.

 

“So you just kiss anyone? Go on dates with anyone who asks?”

 

“Of course not!” Lance stood up, feeling annoyed now. He’d been the one to confess after all, Keith had barely said anything about his own feelings.

 

“But we aren’t together?” Keith’s monotone accusatory voice was grating on Lance’s already frayed nerves.

 

“I want to be, but you don’t just assume these things. Unless you actually ask you don’t know who else they might be dating or kissing or whatever.”

 

Keith straightens at that, folding his arms angrily across his chest, closing himself up tightly. Lance wanted to break them apart, to be let into that space once again.

 

“So who exactly are you kissing as well?”

 

“NO ONE!” Lance exploded in exasperation because this really wasn’t meant to happen and it hurt far more than he could have imagined.

 

“Then what, you assume I am?” Keith cried, opening up his posture and almost advancing forward.

 

“Well it’s happened to me before, so how can I be sure? I get carried away thinking about us together, thinking how much I like this, like you, but you haven’t said anything and last time it blew up in my face when we didn’t talk about it and she’d been seeing other people the whole time!”

 

“Ahem.” Lance spun around to see Shiro in the doorway, his face red and looking sheepish.

 

“We really need to start the game,” he said, voice soft following the volume of their argument.

 

Lance was pretty sure he was about to start crying so he just nodded, following Shiro out of the room, glad of the distraction.

 

* * *

 

The parachute game was devoid of it’s usual spark. It had always reminded Lance of being a kid himself, running through the rainbow canopy, flinging it to the skies. Leading the activity for the whole group had been a bigger challenge than he expected. It wasn’t simple, getting the room’s attention and leading through all the distractions. Once he’d started though, it seemed to flow well. It was easy to get lost in the shrieks and delight of the children around him, but the argument with Keith still buzzed in the background.

 

He hadn’t meant to reveal those concerns, the insecurities stained on his mind from past experiences. Everything with Keith seemed to send him off kilter, which was what he liked about their dynamic, but also made it difficult.

 

He managed a smile and a wave for all the children as they left, then set about clearing up. He was struggling with the rolled-up parachute when the load suddenly became lighter. Keith had grabbed onto the other end, walking with him to the storage closet but not looking at him. It was awkward.

 

“I don’t know how you keep up with them. Especially when we do summer club all day.”

 

It was short, clipped. But an offer to start something.

 

“Paperwork is a nightmare on that computer. I don’t know how you stand the office either.”

 

“I got so much juice on me today, and sticky stuff. I don’t even know what it is, it’s just sticky.”

 

“Getting all of them to concentrate for two minutes, let alone a whole activity is exhausting.”

 

They reached the cupboard and stored the parachute away. Lance closed the door and locked it, turning to face Keith and holding out the keys. Keith took them back.

 

“I’ll admit it. You don’t just stand there. Your role here is pretty hard, and very necessary.” Lance offered, smiling slightly. Keith matched it.

 

“You’re great with the kids. No one else is as good at that role as you.”

 

Lance felt himself blush and they started back towards the exit. It still wasn’t right though, only one part settled.

 

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” Lance began, stopped just near the exit to look at Keith. “I...I am serious about this. I want to be...your boyfriend. If you want that.”

 

Keith had wanted that, had assumed they already were together, but Lance wasn’t sure if his outburst had changed anything. Keith inhaled, took two steps forward and grabbed Lances hand. He winced, realising how awkward it was, but Lance just squeezed it once.

 

“We should have talked. I’m not good at that. But I need to get better because...I want this too, Lance. And I want you not to doubt me. I didn’t know about before, but I’m not like that.”

 

“I know,” Lance said, cutting in quickly, “I know each relationship is different, and I’m not judging you by someone else, I swear. I just...I couldn’t help it,” he finished feeling embarrassed now it was out in the open, not wanting to start those thoughts up again.

 

“I get that. It will get better. Or I think it does. I haven’t done this before.”

 

Lance used Keith’s hand to pull himself forward directly in front of him, touching his lip oh so faintly to Keith’s in a ghost of a kiss.

 

“Well now you get to do this. Be my boyfriend. It’s an honour, you know.”

 

Keith’s smile nearly touched his. The lack of space was intoxicating.

 

“Is it now? Doesn’t really feel like it.”

 

“You’ll see the light,” Lance managed before they were kissing again. One brush of lips, two then sinking further, pushing harder-

 

“More gross, do you guys not have homes?”

 

“Pidge, whyy,” Lance moaned turning around, Keith still clinging to his hand. Pidge, Hunk and Allura stood behind them, all three ready to leave.

 

“It’s not like I want to see this, I’m the victim here!”

 

Keith pulled Lance along by his hand and the group left, Lance grinning because he was walking home, holding hands with his boyfriend. Keith, his boyfriend. He had boyfriend, Keith.

 

“So, who won? Did you both realise how important your roles here are?” Allura asked, linking arms with Hunk as she walked.

 

“Nope, mullet conceded defeat and has crowned me champion of kids club!” Lance yelled, swinging Keith’s hand and skipping once.

 

“What? Lance, that’s not what I said!”

 

And Lance just laughed because nothing was going to ruin this day.


	12. Day 13: Disney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disney today! A fab theme.
> 
> Special thanks to the lovely Latessitrice; who has put up with many a question from me over these prompts, and picked the movie for this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading.

This was probably a bad idea. In fact this was definitely a bad idea, but Lance didn’t care as he saddled the horse as swiftly as possible. His fingers slipped on the reigns, catching and clashing in haste and nervousness. He didn’t even noticed when Veronica took the leather from him, gently pushing him back towards the house.

 

“Go get your cloak, I’ll do this,” she said.

 

Lance nodded, still shaking and ran back inside, grabbed his cloak from by the doorway and rushed back. By the time he returned, his sister was done, and had begun saddling her own horse. Lance hesitated before climbing up.

 

“You need to go Lance, I’ll follow. Go straight to the castle, I’ll try and hold off the town.”

 

Lance jumped up with practiced ease as she spoke, settling a top the horse; a fresh blast of snowy air instantly freezing his cheeks. His eyes watered, partly due to the chill and partly from fear. It had been summer just a morning ago, before the dark and weather rolled down the mountain.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, throat closing as Veronica paused and smiled encouragingly up at him.

 

“No problem. Now go, you don’t have much time.”

 

He really didn’t. Lance pushed his horse into a trot, crossing to the open gate. The whole town was quiet and dark, the snow muting any potential sound. But from across the mountains he could see a line of torches marching towards the castle.

 

Time to go.

 

“Stay safe!” Lance yelled, horse breaking into a run and charging forward. He dove into the forest, urging Blue to go faster, turning left and deeper into the woods, the world sloping upwards to the other side of the castle. This way was faster, had been faster when he’d last ventured there, so with luck he should beat or at least match the those who were heading to storm the place he’d come to think of as home.

 

It was hard to recall now the fear which had coursed through his veins on his first trip to the castle. When he’d traded himself to save his best friend, promised to take Hunk’s place and stay with the Beast forever. The frozen world of the castle, caked in dust and sadness, the objects fixed and lost in memories of a time before.

 

He’d thought the Beast would be as cruel and heartless as the stories; as terrifying as every nightmare he’d ever had. He was certainly a fright to behold when Lance first saw him. Framed by moonlight, the glowing yellow eyes that seemed to pierce straight into his mind, the large bat-like ears and the lilac skin had caused Lance to shy away. He regretted it now, hated it even but knew the Beast had been deliberately trying to scare him off.

 

But now things were different. Slowly, Lance had broken down those walls, gotten to know and understand the person trapped in a cursed castle far from anyone or anything. They’d bonded, learned together and slowly, before he’d even realised, Lance had fallen in love.

 

Now, he had to save him.

 

Because that idiot had pushed him away, again. Now the town was determined to storm the castle on unfounded rumours and age old fear, and Lance had just left. Had been won over by his homesickness, with the prospect of seeing his family again. And the Beast had let him, had put up those walls and urged him away.

 

But Lance was not going to stand for that, oh no. Not when he’d realised just how deeply in love he was. Lance’s hands gripped the reigns ever tighter, fingers numb with cold as he rode Blue up the hill. The torch light was coming closer, and the sounds of jeering and charging could be heard. As he approached, Lance knew with a sinking feeling it would be too late. They had already reached the castle, would be entering right now.

 

He gritted his teeth and clung on as the turrets came into view and the snow blew harder, masking his vision. It was cold, so bitterly cold tonight and he could feel his body drooping.

 

“Lance!”

 

A familiar shout echoed through the cries of the towns people, and he saw Hunk astride his own horse at the back of the rabble. He rode up, dodging through the angry throng.

 

“I have to get in!” he screamed back over the din, but Hunk was already turning.

 

“This way! They’re having trouble getting in, thank the stars. There’s a side entrance through the gardens you said?”

 

Lance snorted, taking the lead and driving them away from from the crowd focused on the front doors.

 

“Yeah, the place is home not just to the Beast. And they’ll protect it to the last,”

 

“I don’t want to know, but I guess I’m finding out,” Hunk muttered as they slowed, the gardens silent and glinting with an encasing of frost.

 

The two dismounted, and ran to side entrance, Lance taking the lead; weaving around statues and sculptures he knew so well. The door was locked and he screamed in frustration, pushing his whole weight behind it.

 

“Out of the way, buddy,” Hunk said, moving him aside. Lance smiled gratefully and with a roar, Hunk crashed into the door, splitting the hinges and allowing them access.

 

“Nice!” Lance yelled, jumping through, and immediately having to dodge a stream of hot liquid that fell from above. He yelped, spinning around in the darkness.

 

“Lance? Lance, is it you?”

 

He looked up to see a chipped green teapot staring down at him, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the gap in the door.

 

“Pidge! It’s me, I need to-” he looked down at his boots. “Did you throw tea on me?!”

 

“That teapot...is talking,” Hunk replied, eyes wide and unblinking as Pidge jumped down, landing on the table to the left of Lance. Hunk made a squeaking noise, and gripped onto the back of Lance’s cloak.

 

“West Wing, you know where. Hurry, Lance. There’s not much time. Shiro should be able to guide you if anything happens.”

 

“Is Shiro another teapot?”

 

“No, he’s a candlestick,” Lance replied, turning to Hunk and extracting himself from his friend’s grip. Hunk looked like he might pass out at any moment.

 

“Lance, come on!” Pidge cried, jumping up once and clanking their china pieces together. It was a marvel they weren’t more chipped.

 

“I have to go. They’re coming through the front-”

 

“We’ll hold them off. Don’t worry,” Hunk’s faced morphed from terror to resolution, and Lance pulled him into a hug. Hunk was here to fight for him, even though he didn’t fully understand what was happening and was scared out of his mind. Lance really was lucky.

 

He pulled back and with one last smile he sped out of the kitchens, through the corridors and into the main hall. He could hear fighting, screaming from either side as he took the red carpeted stairs two at a time, passing the old portraits on the staircase, their eyes seemingly tracking him as he ran towards his destination.

 

He was tired, still cold and slowing, but he had to make it. His breath puffed forward in a cloud of ice-smoke, his strength seeping away with each step.

 

A crash from behind made him jump, and he spun around. Hanging over the banister, he saw the town’s people had emerged through the door, beginning their assault on the Beast’s home. His home.

 

“Lance!”

 

A beam of light from the corner, and Lance moved to see Shiro, the contrast of his pale candle in the ornate black metal even more pronounced than usual.

 

“I’m on...my way,” he panted, sprinting to the side. Shiro nodded seriously.

 

“Keep going, just two more floors. You can do this Lance. We all believe in you. Don’t worry about them, just reach him.”

 

Lance offered him a tearful smile, then looked away, running back up the staircase, pulling himself along the final sets of stairs. He tripped over the last one, spilling onto his knees and panting heavily.

 

_Keep...going_ he thought to himself, now at the top of the castle, dragging his exhausted body through sheer force of will to the West Wing. He had been here before, sparingly. The area of the castle was the mostly ruined, due to the chaos the Beast’s rages. He skidded to a halt just before the Beast’s room, sparing one final look at the torn painting near the entrance.

 

The Beast, when he was human. It was hard to see, the painting almost completely destroyed, but he could just about make out pale skin and dark hair. All that was left of the man before the curse.

 

A loud smash from the room drew Lance’s attention, and he turned, bursting through the door.

 

“Beast! Where are you! You have to run, they’re coming for you!”

 

He was met with silence, the study dark and empty, and far colder than Lance expected the inside to be.

 

“Balcony,” he muttered, shivering. The balcony doors must be open. Carefully, he crept past objects strewn around, noticing it was more chaotic that he remembered. A globe smashed to pieces to the right, books torn up and papers everywhere. Lance turned to the left of the room, an Arctic breeze making him wince as he faced towards the balcony.

 

The Beast lay slumped on the ground, snow falling on his still body, arm curled carefully around something Lance couldn’t make out.

 

“No!” Lance screamed, running out of the room and onto the balcony, ignoring the surge of pain as he fell onto his hands and knees before him. The Beast’s eyes were closed, his body cold the touch as Lance carefully stroked the freezing hair from his face.

 

“What happened? You’re so cold...please no,” Lance whispered, vision blurring as his tears flowed. He noticed that strange pink flower in the glass case was the object beside the Beast, just one wilted petal left on the stem.

 

Lance started to fully cry, dropping his head to the Beast’s chest as he did, wishing to find a heartbeat he knew wasn’t there.

 

“I’m sorry.” He choked out between sobs and heaving breaths, “I’m so sorry I left. That I was too late. I...I love you. I love you so much and I never told you...I’m sorry,” he cried, clutching onto the dark fabric of the Beast’s shirt, hating himself for being too late; too late to realise he loved him, too late to tell him and too late to find him. His throat started to hurt as he sobbed, his eyes stinging but he didn’t care. There was nothing left in him to care about anything any more.

 

_**Blinding light.** _

 

Lance sat up with a shocked gasp as white and pink beams of light shot from the Beast, span up into the sky and illuminated the castle in a pastel glow. Then, all at once, the light slowly moved downwards, and in it’s wake the castle changed. Lance stared as the black stone turned to gold-stained marble, the eerie gargoyles to angels. The snow blew away, replaced with light clouds as summer returned to the castle again.

 

But it was the Beast Lance focused on. The light elevated him, bursting out in shapes from his skin and body, then slowly he too began to change. The ears curled inwards and became human, his skin lightened to a pale tone, clawed hands morphed to delicate fingers. Although his hair remained the same shade it lost it’s ragged, wild look and curled lightly to frame the man’s face. For he was a man now, with an angular jaw and strong brows. Lance wondered for a frantic moment if this were real, or if he’d frozen to death out here on the balcony.

 

The lights slowly died, and the beast...no _Prince_ , in front of him slowly floated to the ground. As his feet touched the floor, he stumbled once and slowly his eyes opened, focusing immediately on Lance.

 

They were a deep purple shade, so full of life and brighter than he’d ever expected. But they were still him, still the person Lance had fallen for in the darkness and the cold, now replaced by the splendor and warmth he deserved.

 

“Lance,” he whispered, dropping down to match where Lance was still on the floor. Lance was shaking, wasn’t sure if it was from the cold of magical winter was in his bones or the shock of the curse being lifted. Seeing this, the Prince swept his dark, purple fur trimmed coat from his shoulders, wrapping Lance in it in one swift movement.

 

As he fastened the clasp around his neck Lance’s body sprung into action, his arms launching forward as he placed his hands on the Prince’s cheeks. The Prince gasped softly, and Lance felt his eyes well up again.

 

“It’s you...it’s really you,” he said, words just about understandable through his scratchy voice. The Prince smiled and reached up to gently pull Lance’s hands downwards, clasping them in his own.

 

“Keith. My name is Keith. And yes, it’s still me.”

 

Lance tried to laugh but it came out more of a sob, his emotions not sure what direction they were meant to go in.

 

“Keith. Hey.”

 

A chuckle. “Hey, Lance.”

 

And hearing his name said like that just about broke every reasonable feeling left in him, so he just flew forward once more, managing to bang his forehead hard into Keith and mashed their mouths together in the most uncoordinated and messy kiss in history. Keith froze for a moment but then responded slowly, hands coming to Lance’s cheeks trying to calm him, taking over the kiss and leading it in soft, curious direction while Lance tried to stabilise himself. He didn’t quite manage it though, still shaking and reeling from everything.

 

He broke off, clutching at Keith and burying his face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, and Keith clutched him tightly, then coaxed him up to look directly into this eyes.

 

“And I love you, Lance.”

 

Lance just stared for a second, then Keith smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

 

“You’re still shaking, you need rest. Let’s get you-”

 

He was cut off as a green blur careered into him, knocking him flat to the ground. Lance stumbled back once again to see a girl in a somewhat tattered green dress and long brown hair grabbing onto Keith. He hugged fiercely back, laughing as she chattered on. He saw Hunk by the balcony doors, smiling at the scene, and waved as they made eye contact.

 

The girl let go and turned to Lance, smiling. He blinked for a second then realised who it was.

 

“Pidge?” he asked in surprise, and the girl nodded, moving forward and hugging him too.

 

“You did it, you broke the curse! My god, I’m cutting off my hair the second I find scissors, it’s so annoying.”

 

She scowled at the tresses that had fallen in front of her face, then smiled at Lance again.

 

“Really, though. Thank you.”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Lance turned and saw a tall man in a dark suit, one hand clasping at Keith’s shoulder. Lance walked forward, smiling.

 

“Shiro?” he offered and Shiro smiled, nodding. Keith reached out, taking Lance’s hand and drawing him close.

 

“And they all lived happily ever after,” Pidge cooed exaggeratedly, but Lance ignored her in favour of dragging Keith down for a much sweeter, calmer kiss.

 

Because hell yes, after all of this, he was getting his happily ever after


	13. Day 14: Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, leaving Kudos, commenting and tweeting about these stories. I'm so happy you like them!
> 
> I couldn't decide if this should be entirely AU or canon divergent, so it's ended up with the only thing the same being the Garrison. Similar to my day 8 universe really. 
> 
> WARNING: see tags, but contains brief scene of a breakdown. Take care of yourself when reading. 
> 
> Soulmate is one of my favourite AUs, so I hope I've done it justice!

Like most of the population, Lance is born with a soulmark; his a line spiraling from ring finger to wrist, which varies from colour to colour. His line is there when he is born, signalling his soulmate was already here, a child themselves from the muted grey colour across his skin. Soulmarks deepened as children grew, the soul bond settling, and their emotions becoming more complex, taking on colours for their soulmate to see.

 

The soul-lines showed the emotions of the person you were connected with. The marks were in different places on everyone, depending on what type of bond you had, and each home had a hand colour chart to teach the next generation what the colours might mean. They were generalisation, but normally, yellow represented joy, blue happiness, black despair, orange for confusion and red for anger or frustration.

 

Love was never a colour listed in the book. Apparently, it was different for everyone as no love was the same. It was something each bonded soul had to discover for themselves.

 

Lance stares at his line for hours, waiting for the any sign of colour change. His mother had told him his soulmate was almost certainly romantic; the direct correlation of the line crossing the ‘love line’ on his palm and being on the left hand. But Lance knows that anyway. He can’t describe how he knows it, he just did, in the same way he knows to avoid the snarling dog two doors down and that his mother’s hugs are the best in the world.

 

He can’t wait to meet them. Once a soul-pair met, a second line would form on their skin, a matching indicator of the bond. His mother and father have two thin straight ones across their ankles, his mothers’ marks on the left, his father’s on the right. The lines are one on top of the other, so close you can barely see the space between. Their love colour is a brilliant light blue, that quickly became Lance’s favourite colour to see.

 

He is four when the colour first appeared. He goes to bed one evening, and wakes up with a forest green streak across his hand. He screams with excitement, running downstairs.

 

“Mama, look!” he cries, skidding to a halt and pushing his palm upwards to show her. She gasps, as does his older sister beside her, and they both crowd around looking at the colour.

 

“Shall we see what it means?” his mum asks with a smile, knowing full well, but wanting to introduce the spectrum to her son.

 

Lance nods, jumping up and down in excitement as she fetches a worn hardback book, and sets it down on the table. He jumps up onto her lap, small fingers brushing against worn pages until they find the green blocks of colour. Lance holds out his hand, placing it next to the colour which matches as closely as possible.

 

“Contentment,” his mother reads, smiling at the lack of understanding on her son’s face.

 

“It’s like happiness. They are feeling good with everything they have at the moment but...ah, Lance, look!”

 

And he does as the green slowly starts to drain away from the top of his finger, chased away by a dark blue. Lance quickly, with help, flicks through the pages to the blue colours.

 

“That is definitely excitement. I think someone has just discovered they have a soulmate too.”

 

Lance grins hugely. “I can’t wait to meet them!”

 

* * *

 

 

The excitement of the mark’s first colour fades after a week or so. Although he still checks it every day, starting to memorise the moods his soulmate has, there isn’t really much else he can do with it. It is a wonderful reminder of what awaits him in the future but that’s it.

 

Until the day the mark turns black.

 

He notices it on his way home from school when he is eight years old. A dark line slicing his hand in two, vanishing abruptly at his wrist. Black wasn’t a colour he’d looked up but Lance knows without a doubt it is not good.

 

He’s crying by the time he’s able to show his parents. They glance at each other, unsure what to do for a moment. Then with a nod, his father retrieves the book.

 

“These colours are when something makes a person very very sad, Lance. I’m not sure what happened to them, but one day you’ll know. And hopefully, one day you can help.”

 

“I’ll be able to help them?” Lance asks through is tears, the hope that grown up him will be able to make the line turn from black to the beloved yellow joy and blue excitement he’d seen so much of before cheered him slightly.

 

“Of course, son. I’m sure you can.”

 

The black line stayed for a long time though. Months go by, so much so that Lance can barely remember when it was anything else. It dims with time though, but Lance isn’t sure if that’s better or worse.

 

* * *

 

 

Through the rest of his childhood, his soul-mark stays murky. Their are times it moves into the contented green, but they are few and far between. It cycles mainly through black and muted grey to a red-brick colour Lance soon learns is anger.

 

His soul-mate is mostly sad and angry, and Lance wonders what on earth could have happened to make him like this. As he gets older, turns eleven and the line slashes a dark shade for almost four months, Lance is sure he’s never felt that particular emotion, never experienced that type of pain.

 

He wonders what his own mark looks like. He thinks it may have changed a lot. He worries about his soul-mate; his sixteen year old brother has taken to ignoring him completely and his twin sister insists on calling him ‘idiot’ rather than his name, but it still doesn’t feel like the pain his soulmate is experiencing.

 

“I’m going to find you. And I’m going to make sure you never feel like this again. Whatever it takes,” he promises to the mark one night, making a wish on the stars he can see from his bedroom window that he’ll be able to fulfill that promise.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a year later he first sees a space mission. It’s a documentary his elder sister is watching, and knowing he’d loose a fight for the remote, he sits next to her and watches.

 

It’s everything. The expanse of space, the brightness and the mystery. The flying, the speeding across the sky and looping around planets. Discovering danger, being something other than the youngest, the slowest, the one who has to shout louder than anyone to be seen...he wants it. He’s never wanted anything so much in his life except perhaps to find his soulmate.

 

That night he dreams of starscapes and falling through nebulas. The next day he’s researching the best way to make his dreams come true, and turns out the pilot in the documentary, Takashi Shirogani, is part of the Galaxy Garrison. So Lance has two goals now: get into the Galaxy Garrison as a fighter pilot, and find his soulmate.

 

* * *

 

 

School is awful. He gets teased for his looks, for his accent and for liking what he likes. He gets tripped up between classes, asked out on dares by pretty girls. He tries to erase the Spanish inflection in his words, laugh like it’s all a joke and copies what his peers like and say. Eventually it evens out but it crushes something that once flourished inside him. The pretty girls become genuine once or twice, so he smiles and winks, copying more of what he sees on American TV. Occasionally the pretty girls become pretty boys and that’s a dilemma it in itself. So he keeps that side quiet, not wanting to upset the equilibrium he took so long to create.

 

Besides, he had a soulmate. Flirting is fine and all, but he has someone he needs to find.

 

Hunk lives one street away, and with him he can be normal. He doesn’t laugh at Lance’s accent, doesn’t care that Lance likes to both dance and swim, and is just as obsessed with space. He smiles and hugs him after he admits his crush on a boy in his swim class, happy that Lance felt able to tell him. They both want to apply to the Garrison for different courses, but it will be nice after all this to make that step with a genuine friend.

 

Hunk is the first person outside his family he talks to about his mark. He shows him, shyly at first the line, then it all falls out of him; the colour that stays dark, the tinges of anger and fear that make Lance’s heard constrict with pain for someone who is part of him but also a complete stranger in most ways.

 

Hunks hugs him, the ultimate cure for any of Lance’s worries. But he looks sad, the sad look that Lance’s family give him whenever the subject is broached at home.

 

“I just...I just want to find them. Make it better,” Lance says miserably.

 

“You will find them someday, buddy. I know you will. It’s just...it’s been like that for a while, right? That stuff doesn’t just stop. It takes time, ya know?”

 

The thing is, Lance doesn’t quite know, not yet. He’s seen sadness in a vague way, but nothing that would cause a colour for this long. So Hunk’s answer does open a window a little, lets something in that he hadn’t considered. It helps a little, and Lance changes his pledge that night; that he’ll still find them, he’s determined. But he’ll make sure when he does, that he’ll always be there for them. So that if they ever go through a time like this, they’ll always have someone with them.

 

* * *

 

 

The colours do change, gradually. The dark line returns for periods, then disappears. Red is an almost constant. But other colours emerge; curiosity comes back, wanderlust as new fuchsia blend to Lance’s skin, and the blast of aqua determination.

 

Lance does continue to wonder about his own colours. Things aren’t right sometimes, moments that feel like he’s been sucked under the ocean for no reason. The days his siblings excel at everything and he vanishes into the backdrop. When he doubts his soulmate will ever love someone so useless and stupid as he is. It’s like he’s pushing at a barrier only he can see, and it hurts when he makes impact. He tries to keep pushing, acting like it’s not there, but it just gets bigger and bigger until he’s surrounded and trapped.

 

He has a panic attack at fifteen. He cries as he can’t breathe, scratches his arms until there’s blood and his head splinters into cracked stone and drips away. He gets hospitalised, and sedated, whispers of therapy and medication. He doesn’t quite know when he started this or why, but it’s come to this.

 

He wakes up after his long sedation, and checks his palm as usual. He sits up, monitor flaring when there’s a mingle of colours he doesn’t know. His mother comes to his bedside, eyes shining on seeing her son awake.

 

“Mama, what are these?” he asks, and suddenly he’s four again, tipping his palm to her the first time the colours mar his skin. She pickes up his hand gently, then sniffs once as she turns back to him. In the focus he’d forgotten what happened, why he was here and not at home, working on his application to the Galaxy Garrison or playing video games with Hunk.

 

“This murky green here is fear. The pale almost neutral colour is concern. And this brown- orange is helplessness.”

 

Lance stares at his hand, but the colours do not change, do not move or shift at all. His mother comes to sit beside him, stroking his hair. He leans in.

 

“I think someone else was worried about you too.”

 

He sobs into her shoulder because it’s the first time since he was child that his soulmate has shown anything related to Lance. He cries because he knows too well what it feels like when the colour of your mark shows something terrifying and you can’t help, but also as he doesn’t think he can change it, knows he’s not okay now and in this moment it’s all too heavy. But he tries. As the day moves forward he tries to be okay, tries to project different feelings down his bond (as if this were possible) as they map out next steps. By the time he goes to bed that night, a tan type colour covers his hand. When he looks it up, it reads ‘relief.’

 

* * *

 

 

As Lance and Hunk finish their Galaxy Garrison applications, the joy colour come back into Lance’s life. It’s amazing to see it, and he revels in each day his soulmate spends doing whatever makes those colours appear for hours on end. He feels contented, happy that things are slowly getting better for them, and for him. He has been working to change things slowly, and he no longer feels like he’s trying to inhale water with every breath.

 

He longs to fly like nothing else. The days spent waiting and wondering if he and Hunk will get into the Garrison drag, and he spends days mulling over the entry statistics that do not tip in his favour. He and Hunk have a sleep over to watch the triumphant return of Takashi Shirogane from Kerberous. He watches the crowds cheer, and Shiro waving at the cameras, all smiles and stories. He hugs a small teen about Lance’s age in a Garrison uniform to his side, and kisses his fiancé, Adam, in a dramatic dip in front of the cameras. Lance giggles and knows without looking that they’re soulmates, and Lance loves a romance almost as much as he loves the thought of being a pilot.

 

His soulmate’s line radiates happiness for the rest of the week, which makes Lance in turn smile. It’s that Friday that the envelop comes, with the stamp of the Garrison, and Lance almost vomits as he opens it with shaking hands.

 

_Many applicants...accepted...cargo pilot class._

 

And it may not be fighter, may not be exactly what he wanted but he still did it. Still will be able to fly, still part of something he’s wanted to do for so long that it makes his heart spin. He’s proud of himself, wants to shove the letter in the face of every bully and teacher who judged him too slow, too stupid or too Lance to get where he is.

 

Hunk, of course, is accepted into the engineering course exactly as he aimed for, and can’t stop crying on Lance when he comes over. Hunk’s mum makes them both cake, and Lance cheers when he takes his first bite. It’s one of the best days, he’s almost too excited to sleep with the prospect of the future. As Lance goes to bed, his line on his palm is stained in blue, much as it has been for the last few days, but slightly deeper. The end, where it tails off into his wrist fades to a pale red, much darker than the anger he’s become so familiar with. The reference book as he pulls it out by the light of his lamp tells him it’s ‘pride.’ Lance hopes it’s for him, even though his soulmate has no idea what he’s just achieved. He falls asleep telling himself that it is.

 

* * *

 

 

The name Keith Kogane is already infamous when Hunk and Lance enroll. He’s a star pilot in the year above, the successor to Takashi Shirogane himself, so close they’re practically brothers. But he walks a fine line, almost getting kicked out last year when he threatened to punch a commanding officer. Lance almost wishes he had, Iverson, is brutal and treats Lance just like his old teachers back home. He’s been reassured that if he does well in finals this year he can apply for Fighter Class in second year, but a sea of doubt and homesickness stand in the way during the first term. It’s faster and harder than he anticipated, and although Hunk is here, it still feels like a lot.

 

All the pilots in first year have basic training together, so he gets his own team like a fighter pilot would. By design or luck, Hunk is his engineer, and their communications is a guy named Pidge, who Lance really wants to invite into their double act, but who pushes them away constantly. It hurts a little.

 

He sees Keith fly a month in. He’s mooching around the simulation rooms, wondering if he can get permission to try and give it a go, when catches Keith’s practice. He is incredible, and Lance just watches, the simulation almost perfect. He gives Keith a smile as he exits. Keith seems shocked to find someone there, and before Lance can open his mouth and congratulate him, the teen stalks past, shoulder checking him.

 

“Should you even be here, cargo pilot?”

 

The rank is said as a put down and Lance gapes. Venom of his own comes out, too much hurt of the past few months boiling to the surface.

 

“Yeah well, at least I can turn to the left, how are you a prodigy with that lack of control?” he snaps back, leaving in the opposite direction before Keith can yell something in return.

 

He does cry that night, muffling his sobs with his face in a duvet. When he wakes up the next morning, his palm is stained with concern again, which gives him a twinge of guilt but also a slight lift that even so far from home and stability someone cares.

 

* * *

 

 

They are paired with second year pilots in the next term. Lance feels the excitement rush through his veins when announced, the opportunity to learn from someone with more experience appealing instantly. He believes in his skills, has to so he can keep striving forward. Self doubt can sweep in and devastate so easily after all. But he can only get better through learning.

 

The aim is that by the end of this buddy system, they should be able to fly co-pilot on a short journey with their buddy, and then be ready to act as official co-pilots in their second year. Lance wants to scream with excitement at the prospect.

 

His first session is fantastic. He is paired up with Marisa, a second year cargo pilot who has already flown on two missions, and will most likely graduate early. She’s kind and patient, talks him through his issues in the simulation, praising him when he makes improvements. He feels capable, a lightening that keeps him buoyant throughout the rest of his classes, even when maths feels like it might try and break him.

 

He is surprised then to learn two days later that he’ll be switching to another person.

 

“I thought we got on well,” he moans to Hunk and Pidge at lunch. He’d deliberately sat with Pidge, who was glaring but still seemed vaguely interested in their conversation.

 

“Maybe there’s another reason? Have they told you who you’ll be working with?”

 

Lance shakes his head, wondering if there was something he’d done without knowing. But he can’t pinpoint it, and it’s even more perplexing when Marisa finds him after class.

 

“You did really well, Lance. I think you’re going to be great. There were just issues with one of the other pairs so a few of us switched round. But I wanted to let you know it wasn’t down to me.”

 

He nods, feeling a little better. “Do you know who I’ll be paired with instead? Someone else from your class?”

 

Her face flickers between a few emotions before steadying, and she shakes her head, apologising that she doesn’t know. It seems a bit weird, but Lance trusts what she says, having no other option. All is explained however when he enters the simulation room and finds Keith Kogane standing there awkwardly.

 

“You!” Lance hisses, the memory of their last and only interaction still fresh.

 

Keith looks at him scathingly, not even bothering to uncross his arms.

 

“Who are you? Wait..” he stops, turns and pulls out his phone, checking something.

 

“Lance McClain,” he reads and Lance sighs.

 

“That’s me, man.” He knows his soulmate will be seeing the disappointment and nervousness for hours after. Keith is obviously an asshole, but he’s an ace pilot. Lance’s skills cannot compare, not when he’s a year behind and cargo pilot class. Having to work beside this guy isn’t something he’s looking forward to. A tendril of smokey panic slithers to lift in his chest but he pushes it down, steadying his breathing and walking further into the room.

 

“Show me what you can do,” Keith orders, gesturing towards the simulator. Lance nods curtly, before stepping in and setting up. The programme is preloaded, and as it begins Lance inhales, nerves building. The asshole would have picked the hardest one, just had to make sure Lance failed.

But Lance wasn’t one to back down. He flew as best he could, actually getting further than he had in class previously before crashing completely into the ground of the desert.

 

“That was terrible,” Keith says as Lance exists, causing him to bristle.

 

“That’s the hardest simulation, you did it on purpose!” Lance cries, his hands flying up in exasperation.

 

Keith blinks, looking confused for a moment.

 

“It’s not that difficult. Fairly standard.”

 

“Maybe for you, we can’t all be prodigies! Plus I was nervous, your stare is creepy,” Lance replies feeling inadequacy well up inside. His instructors had said in class this simulation was difficult, and he always managed to do better than his peers. But to hear Keith completely baffled by his result makes him sting hot with shame.

 

Keith seems to be frustrated, Lance thinks. If it’s solely with Lance of the whole situation he can’t tell, but it’s obvious their interactions are causing stress.

 

“Okay, show me how you fly,” Keith concedes finally, the two of them going back into the simulation together.

 

The session unravels almost immediately after they begin, with Keith trying to take the controls from Lance each time he flies, almost as if he can’t help but do it himself. They meet each other blow for blow in every retort and gesture, Lance slapping his hands away and Keith calling him an idiot with every imperfect movement.

 

By the time the hour is up, the supervisor comments he’s never seen two students crash so much in all his years of running simulation training.

 

* * *

 

 

Their second training session is almost exactly the same, except this time it ends when Keith storms out after just 37 minutes. Lance sits in the simulation booth, head in arms and screams in frustration. His line has been a mirror of his own emotions recently, a lot of frustration on display with an overarching hue of exhaustion. At least he has a twin in his feelings with his soulmate, and cradles his arm closely as he exists the booth.

 

That evening Pidge and Hunk arrive in his room, citing that he seems off. Lance is off, and is also touched by his friends concern. The order pizza and bitch about classes, and normalcy returns , finding a calm warm place inside him as the three sit on the floor.

 

“Oh no,” Lance suddenly murmurs to himself as he catches sight of his hand while they play uno. Sadness stains it, and he absently rubs his thumb gently up to his finger joint and down to his wrist as if he could truly soothe them through the bond.

 

“Is that your mark?”

 

Pidge leans forward as Lance holds out his hand. He frowns at the colour.

 

“Not a great day for them,” Pidge comments. Lance sighs.

 

“Yeah it happens quite a bit for them.”

 

Pidge is silent for a moment, then nods sadly, and it all feels awkward for a moment. Then lance slaps his next card down and it all falls back into the scrabble for a winner.

 

* * *

 

 

Week three with Keith shocks Lance as soon he steps into the room as right there in front of him is Takashi Shirogane. The very reason for Lance’s love of space and determination to stand tall with all the other pilots is in the same room as him.

 

Lance would like to say he is respectful and smooth as he meets his hero, but as soon as he’s requested to call the man ‘Shiro’ Lance makes a strange squeaking noise and turns red. He hears Keith scoff from behind and narrows his eyes. Keith looks the same as ever, but there is an air of hesitancy around him that Lance has never felt before.

 

Shiro looks between them and smiles.

 

“I’ll be overseeing your training today. Keith, why don’t you pick a simulation. Lance, go ahead and get yourself set up, Keith will join you in a moment.”

 

Lance does with shaking hands and barely acknowledges his fellow cadet as he takes his place next to him. The two are on their best behaviour for a whole of five minutes before Keith tries to grab the controls and it all starts up again. They crash into the sea and are still yelling when the exit, only to instantly go silent as Shiro stares disapprovingly at them.

 

He inhales. “Keith. You have to let Lance fly and give instruction, not take over. Lance, you need to listen to Keith’s advice and allow him to guide you. Both of you need to stop yelling at each other.”

 

Lance pouts. He knows Keith is good, knows he could learn so much from him if the guy wasn’t a stuck up control freak. Keith glares at the same spot on the floor as Lance, and Lance feels in his bones this is going nowhere.

 

“Lance, fly a simulation you’re comfortable with. Just you. Keith, we’ll watch from the observation area.”

 

Without a glance in his direction Keith stomps off, but Shiro stays. He gives Lance an encouraging smile.

 

“Just pretend you’re in class, that it’s a usual day. I’ve seen your scores, you do fly well. You’re going to try for fighter class at the end of the year, is that right?”

 

Lance nods, overwhelmed by the knowledge that Shiro knows so much about him.

 

“Then you know you can do this.”

 

It’s a bolster to his confident that he needs, because he loads his favourite simulation and flies almost perfectly. As he steps out, a little anxious at what he’ll find, he’s sees Shiro looking almost smug and Keith looking…well, not as annoyed as before.

 

“That felt good,” he comments, hating the silence and wondering what they are thinking.

“It was Lance, very good. You both have similar styles. I think with time, you can work well together.”

 

Lance highly doubts that, but he’ll never say it to Shiro.

 

Instead of ending the session with that though, he informs them he’ll be setting them a series of ‘bonding exercises’ to help them work better as a team. Lance tries not look to aghast at the idea, but cannot deny it fills him with dread.

 

* * *

 

It’s the weekend when Pidge turns up at his dorm. Hunk is finishing off a project at Lance’s desk, and Lance is trying to distract himself from the fact he has a training session with Keith in an hour.

 

“Hey, come join the misery club,” Lance announces, sweeping him into the room with a bow.

 

“Lance, I actually like what I’m doing,” Hunk comments, waving in the newcomers direction without looking up.

 

“It’s homework Hunk, stop saying you like it,” Lance mutters, sitting back down on his bed. Pidge however stands awkwardly by the door.

 

“Is…everything okay?” Lance asks. Pidge has been spending more time with them recently, joining in their jokes and occasional prank. He isn’t in any of Lance’s classes except group training, but Hunk and Pidge share a few, bringing all three together. It’s been nice, and he’s never seen Pidge look this nervous.

 

“I need to tell you both something.”

 

Hunk looks up, and Lance turns fully towards them. Pidge sighs.

 

“My given name isn’t Pidge. It’s actually Katie. Katie Holt, and yes before you ask that’s the same as Sam and Matt Holt.”

 

Lance blinks, processing the information.

 

“Why did you change it?” Hunk asks. Pidge inhales once.

 

“I want to be taken seriously on my own. I didn’t want to be carried through just because of my father and brother. I wanted my own start. I just…don’t always feel like a Katie, either.”

 

“Who do you feel like?” Lance asks softly, wanting Pidge to be able to continue for as long as he wants to.

 

Pidge shakes his head face falling into a look Lance knows he’s seen in the mirror before. The confusion of self, of trying to work out what’s going on in the tangles of your own emotions and ideas that are yours but feel like someone else’s simultaneously.

 

“I’m still not sure. I don’t think I’m Katie Holt. Not all the time. I quite like being Pidge for now.”

 

“Then Pidge it is!” Lance says grinning brightly. Pidge seems shocked for a second, obviously thinking there was going to be another response to his revelation, and visibly lets out a shaking breath. He looks at Lance, smile matching and then nods towards his hand.

 

“A good day for her, then.”

 

Lance takes the change in topic, and sees the excitement in his palm. Lance groans.

 

“At least one of us is. And it could be a him, I’m happy with either,” he adds, deciding no was as good a time as any to tell Pidge he was bi. Pidge looks confused for a moment.

 

“You only flirt with the girls in class,” he replies. Hunk laughs and thumps Lance on the back.

 

“It’s easier with girls, you never really know what sort of reaction guys will…anyway have you seen the boys in our class? Although there’s a few third years who are a dream to stare at.”

 

He drifts off into a slight daydream for a moment until Pidge leans forward, smiling sweetly.

 

“And how about Keith?”

 

Lance flails so hard he falls off the bed, Hunk and Pidge’s laughter accompanying him.

 

* * *

 

 

Wishing he was as excited about his afternoon as his soulmate is, Lance walks to the training room. Their first bonding exercise is actually sparring, which they do as part gym class anyway but hand-to-hand is not Lance’s specialty. He’s not too bad with a long-range rile, and hopes he can work on that as time goes on.

 

Keith, on the other hand is a vicious fighter. He has Lance on his back, then on his face and landing painfully on his side within minutes. Lance raises his hands for a timeout within 20 minutes.

 

“Really?” Keith asks.

 

“Yes, really. It’s tiring and frustrating when you keep cheating,” Lance says, grabbing water and walking away from where Keith is opening his own. Keith peels off the gloves that are permanently attached to his hands, and Lance grimaces. How someone can fight with those on he doesn’t know.

 

Keith seems to be feeling the same way as he looks at them hard for a few moment before putting the gloves back on. Lance tries not to gag.

 

Resigned, he moves forward.

 

“Okay, mullet, let’s go. I’ll get you this time.”

 

He ends up on the floor with a bruised jaw. Another 30 minutes and Lance is calling time out, but this time he knows he won’t be trying again.

 

“I’m done. Too tired. Urg, this doesn’t help,” Lance says from the floor. He is surprised when a gloved hand appears in his vision. He takes it, a small zing of contact as his hand brushes the fabric.

 

“You’re not bad. You could be better if you actually practiced though,” he adds, and Lance rolls his eyes.

 

“Some of us have better things to do with our time, mullet,” he mutters.

 

But it turns out that Shiro agrees as Lance’s schedule of bonding activities continues. They do trust exercises under Shiro’s supervision, falls when one has to catch each other.

 

“Only a matter of time until you fell for me,” Lance says sweetly to Keith, who then falls deliberately with his sharp elbows punching into Lance’s stomach. They don’t drop each other, no matter how tempting Lance finds it. They also do a few classroom based exercises, including pictionary that Lance is terrible at, so badly so that Keith breaks several pencils before Shiro lets them go for the evening.

 

“How can you not guess a lion?!” Keith is yelling at him, almost pulling his hair out.

 

“You’re not good at drawing, Keith!” Lance yells back as they approach the dorms. The truth was it sort of looked like one but by that point Lance had got so many answers wrong he’d lost confidence in how abilities and just decided to play up the act. It was better than guessing something he truly thought it was and getting it wrong.

 

“Anyway, I have maths to do, so please leave me alone,” Lance states as they near his room.

 

“Didn’t you have that to do yesterday?” Lance can feel a headache coming on.

 

“Yes, thank you. I have still got it to do.”

 

There is silence as Lance takes out his dorm key, then a mumble from behind. Lance sighs and turns.

 

“What now?”

 

Keith looks annoyed, and huffs his hair out of his face, pulling on his left glove back and forth over his wrist.

 

“I said, if you need any help tell me. I aced math.”

 

Then he’s gone, puling off the glove as he walks away.

 

“Of course you did,” Lance mutters. He catches sight of his soulmark as he walks in and turns the light on. Nervousness, exhaustion and a tinge of pride just at the top.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, I’m taking you down, Keithy. Nothing is going to stop me,” Lance grabs the controls and feels the energy filter from his head down to his fingertips. He loves flying, even in simulations, and today they are racing. He’s not sure if Shiro’s really thinking this through but he doesn’t care. This is what he loves, has loved since he first learned flying was an option. And today, he’s going to show Keith who’s boss.

 

They are...sort of working together. Sort of edging into a competitiveness that was less argumentative and more playful. At least, Lance had found himself thinking less of Keith as an asshole and more of someone he wanted to beat, or even a few times, impress.

 

His palm glows with happiness today, had done for the past few days, with a few spikes of anger in between. Keith had had some issues with his superior this week too, he’d joined in with Lance’s raving about Iverson as he’s been told he won’t be allowed on solo missions with the rest of his class if he doesn’t’ adjust his attitude.

 

“As if that would stop me,” he’d grumbled threateningly, causing Lance to laugh. Lance could hear said laugh through their comms now, the two of them careering through the simulated skies. Lance woops, cheers and laughs along with Keith, hurling insult and comebacks as they dive together and race for the finish line. He doesn’t win, but he doesn’t care.

 

“Think you can beat that?” Keith calls and Lance’s blood is fire.

 

“Bring it on!”

 

* * *

 

 

Lance takes up the offer for math help. Keith is no better a teacher with math than he is flying but Lance sneakily combines it with Hunk’s presence. Hunk seems to soothe away the brittle edges of Keith, as he does with most people, and the two combined help him through the equations well. Pidge occasionally joins but his teaching methods are terrifying, which is why Lance has steered clear.

 

It’s one night while he’s finishing the last page of an assignment that Keith asks about his mark. Lance knows he’s seen it before, clocked the hue and tone for the day. It’s hard not to when it’s on his hands.

 

“You don’t try and hide it.”

 

Lance stares. “No, why would I do that, man? It’s my soulmark.”

 

Keith looks uncomfortable. “Isn’t it something private? To wear someone else’s emotions.”

 

Lance falters. “I’ve...never thought of it that way. I guess, mine is hard to hide, so I haven’t tried. Maybe if it were somewhere else I would have done. Besides, I’m proud of it. Proud of them.”

 

Keith is obviously surprised at that. “Proud of them?”

 

Lance smiles, tracing the mark carefully. Keith twitches at the motion, and Lance smiles at him, the looks back down at his hand.

 

“Yes. They share this with me, and I’ve seen what they’ve felt. It’s not...not always been easy for them, but they always keep going. No matter what. To experience a lot and keep going, I can’t not be proud of them. They’ve kept me going too. Plus, I like seeing it. I love it when they feel excitement, or joy. But even when they’re angry or sad I like to know. So when I meet them, I can be the person they hopefully want and need, since they’ve shared so much with me.”

 

He looks up to see Keith shaking. Actually shaking and Lance doesn’t know what he’s said or done to arose such a reaction, but Keith speaks before he can question anything further.

 

“You want to meet them?” his voice is steadier than his body, and it makes Lance feel slightly calmer.

 

“Yeah, of course. I’ve wanted to meet them since the first time their colour appeared on my skin.”

 

Keith stands abruptly, knocking over Lance’s chair as he does. Lance stands with him, completely confused.

 

“I need to go. I have to...speak to Shiro.”

 

“What? Keith, wait what did I do?”

 

But he’s gone with the slam of the door, and Lance is left with a messy dorm to clear up. He pauses for a second, calculating the reactions and wondering, just wondering for a moment what if?…

But shakes his head. It couldn’t possibly be.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later, they are in the simulator in the same programme that Keith first asked Lance to try. Lance steels his nerves, and feels Keith tense beside him.

 

“Let’s do this,” he says, glancing to Keith as he grabs the controls. Keith looks at him in return, and his eyes seem to glow in the small space. But he nods, takes his position and Lance turns back, waiting for the simulation to start.

 

And then, it’s different. He focuses, completely on the buzz and whine of the machine, tenses his muscles and makes every single movement count, each twitch of a finger and swoop of an arm. He puts his body and soul into it, all he’s learned and all he’s dreamed of learning.

 

Slicing through his mind is Keith’s voice. He commands, gives direction that Lance trusts, makes decisions Lance knows are for the best. He follows, then takes his own path, reveling when Keith praises the decision. They work in tandem, Keith leaning closer into him as they progress, existing in the same space, experiencing the same flight. They are in sync. Utterly and completely, in sync.

 

When the simulation finishes and their near perfect score lights up, Lance shoots his hands into the air, a cheer escaping. He can hear Shiro say something but in this moment there is only one person that garners his full attention.

 

“We did it! We are a good team!” he cries, turning his whole body to face Keith, who is just there, next to him, the other half of this moment, this memory. Keith takes him in, eyes working over Lance’s face. It’s a small space, it’s not much of a gap to cross but Keith does, leans in and kisses him.

 

Small, just a touch of lips on lips. A tiny movement, a press and a few seconds of time. But it makes Lance’s senses elongate and his breath cease. Such a small movement to change so much. For as Keith pulls away, he grips Lance’s hand. Lance looks down and watches as slowly, carefully a thin bright blue line snakes across the one that’s been there his whole life. It winds down from finger tip to wrist in a spiral, the two intertwining completely.

 

Both are blue. Happiness. He and Keith, locked together in this moment.

 

Keith keeps hold of Lance’s hand, then rips off his left glove, and there is the matching set. Completely identical, that beautiful shade of blue stark across his pale hands.

 

“You...you’re my soulmate,” Lance says, stating the absolute obvious because he’s reeling from the high of the flight and shock of the landing.

 

“I am,” Keith’s voice is soft, a little in awe himself it seems to Lance. But he’s happy, just as happy as Lance is right now.

 

“I found you,” Lance says, and then pulls Keith back towards him in a hug, clinging as hard as he can for as long as they can stay in here until Shiro pulls them out.

 

_I found you._

 

* * *

 

 

The thing with love stories are they are just that: stories. In reality, things are much messier and reside in murky shades of grey.

 

Yes, Lance and Keith are soulmates, and yes, Lance is happy. Keith is determined and bright, heroic and breathtaking, kind and silly, feeling so much and not knowing what to do with it. But Lance doesn’t love him, not yet at least. The potential is there though, so bright it’s frightening at times, so Lance treads cautiously. They both do, walking hand in hand but at a snails pace, taking it one moment to the next.

 

He doesn’t actually know Keith. He doesn’t know his favourite food, the first movie that made him cry or whether he prefers summer over winter. He does know when he’s’ angry, that flying causes him joy like nothing else and that talking about all of this is hard for him. But that’s just what they do, what they try and start. To learn about one another, to allow themselves to grow into the connection that’s just starting to bind them together.

 

“You get so angry,” Lance murmurs into Keith’s hair, their left hands clasped, curled around each other on the roof top. It’s late and the stars watch them, and Lance knows he’s falling slowly for the boy who hums in agreement next to him.

 

“It’s hard to control. It just hits me all at once and I can’t keep it in. It’s better than when I was younger, but it’s taking time.”

 

Lance leans his head more into Keith. Keith sigh and turns on his side, Lance mirroring the action to they face one another.

 

“You worry. A lot. You always have. And you feel worthless sometimes. That’s my second worst colour to see on you.”

 

Lance closes his eyes, and recalls in words the emotions that lead to those colours. Of a family loving but claustrophobic, where he never had a place to shine. Of a town where people stared at those who looked different, and a school where he couldn’t be Cuban, had to change himself to survive. For fighting his way out of those habits once he had the strength to. And Keith holds a hand to his face, the touch anchoring him in this moment, in this time.

 

“Your line went dark. Suddenly, one day. I know something must have happened to cause you that much pain for so long.”

 

Keith’s inhale rattles and Lance shimmies forward so they are almost sharing the same breath.

 

“It doesn’t have to be now,” he says. But Keith shakes his head, a flickering smile on his face.

 

“My dad died. My mum was never in the picture, and dad was all I had. I was nine. It...hurt is an understatement. I started wearing the gloves because I hated seeing evidence of other things, other emotions I just didn’t have access to. I wanted to find you, to feel them with you, but it all just felt impossible at the time.”

 

Lance moves his arm to Keith’s waist, holding him close, hoping the warmth comforts him a little.

 

“I was in the system almost immediately. Went from foster home to foster home. Too angry and sad and too much of a problem to stay one place for long. Until Shiro found me. Saw something worth rescuing, I still don’t know how.” Keith’s hand moves to where Lance’s fingers were tracing and tracking the spirals.

 

“I don’t know, it’s pretty obvious from here,” Lance mutters, getting his nose booped by Keith in reply. Lance giggles, and the tension leaks out. There is a moment of peaceful togetherness before Keith speaks once more.

 

“Yours vanished one day. The line completely disappeared. That was the worst colour I’d seen, when there was no colour at all.”

 

Lance closes his eyes this time, because he knows that day. He’d spent so long wondering about his soulmate’s pain that he’d forgotten his own had been shared just as clearly.

 

“Everything just broke, one day. Like I was trying to hold the pieces of my head together and my arms just gave out. I don’t remember it clearly...it’s just like when you reset something. It goes blank then fires up.”

 

Lance snuggles closer, and Keith readily lets him.

 

“A breakdown, I guess. Not I guess, it was. Sometimes it still feels like I’m trying to hold myself up with twigs. But mostly it seems stable.”

 

“And I’m here now,” Keith replies, which Lance feels as a rumble where he’s hugged into him.

 

“And I’m here now,” Lance promises back.

 

* * *

 

 

Six months later, Lance passes his conversion course the Fighter Pilot class. He flings himself on Keith, Hunk cheering loudly in the background while Pidge films the whole thing on his phone. Keith swings him around embarrassingly and Lance screeches at the indignity of the whole thing.

 

When Keith finally places him down with a laugh, Lance sees the colour on his wrist.

 

_Purple_

 

A bright, new colour of both lines, the twirls looking closer and more perfectly entangled than Lance has ever seen them. A colour for a feeling he’d seen coming for a while now, just waiting for the right second to appear.

 

_Purple is our colour of love_ , Lance thinks, and wants to cry, scream and go back in time to tell the four year old boy staring at his wrist in wonder that yes this day will come and yes everything, everything is so very much worth it.

 

Keith hasn’t looked yet, but Lance will tell him with words first when they’re alone. Tell him the three words that will continue to grow their relationship as their bonds twist ever closer.

 


	14. Day 15: College

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos and tweets! Really appreciate the support for this, it's so much fun writing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

A year studying abroad had been an amazing opportunity, one that after failing so spectacularly during his first year at Uni, Keith was still amazed he’d been given. His placement was in the top university in the world for astrophysics, using state of art equipment and studying under individuals he’d once only fantasised about meeting.

 

It had also been an opportunity to get to know his mum better. He’d only reconnected with her four years ago, and it had taken time to get to a place where they both felt comfortable enough to start rebuilding the trust which had been severed so harshly for so long. With the school being in the same country as her, Keith had been able to start that process, and he’d always be grateful for that.

 

It had come with it’s downsides though. He’d uprooting himself, even for a year, from the only place he’d ever known as home. University was the furthest he’d ever travelled in twenty-two years, and it was only 2 hours drive. He’d had to get a passport just to complete his application for the placement abroad. It was such a change in all aspects he’d spent the first few weeks in a daze of homesickness, wondering if he should just buy a plane ticket back.

 

He missed people, which came as a shock. Keith liked his own company, was good at being alone. But he discovered the gaping difference between having the option to be alone or with his friends, and being forcefully removed from them. He missed Shiro, his mentor and student adviser, who had risen to a friend and almost brotherly figure after helping Keith get himself back together when he failed his first year of study. He missed Hunk, having someone he knew in his classes, who would always save him a seat and had time to discuss lectures and ideas. He missed Pidge’s snark and their math genius, and their marathon documentary nights where they stayed up for hours on end. He missed Allura’s cheerful chatter, missed being her gym buddy and having someone to run races with.

 

And overall he missed his boyfriend. He’d known it would be hard, but he’d also known without a doubt he and Lance would make it through the long distance for a year. He underestimated his own ability to miss Lance though. Like with his friends, he’d assumed he’d miss him, but the regular skyping that Lance put in the diary would tide them over until their next face to face meeting.

 

Yet, it was far harder. The time difference was only a few hours, but it could sometimes make scheduling calls difficult when they both had classes, assignments and things planned. Calls were sometime shortened, and once or twice cancelled; leaving a hollow space marred with anxiety when he was cancelled on, and overwhelming guilt when he had to cancel.

 

He was just so used to Lance being there, being close. They’d known each other for three years now, together for just over two. By the merit of being in a few classes together and living in places just a few minutes walk away, they had time and the means to be in each other’s presence a lot. Keith hadn’t even realised how much until it had been taken away.

 

He found it wasn’t the big things he missed, like spending their two year anniversary together, or celebrating holidays, although of course he missed those too. He missed the tinny, obnoxious pop song Lance insisted of having as his phone alarm. He missed getting Lance’s coffee order. He missed finding Lance’s t shirts intertwined with his own laundry, getting to wash them in his soap so Lance smelt like him. Stupid things he barely noticed when he was there.

 

Then there were the larger, more frightening things. Not being able to understand each other properly over text and email, ending in arguments that couldn’t be defused with a hug. Seeing Lance cry over a screen when he was so stressed he was at his wits end, and not being able to do anything about it. Lance staying with him on the phone until he fell asleep in the first few weeks when he was so close to giving up and going back home.

 

So the fact that his last exam was done, and he could finish his final year of study back with his friends and boyfriend was a welcome relief, even though he would miss many things about this place.

 

What was not welcome, was the current 1 hour 43 minute delay to his flight. Keith kicked at a wall, startling a couple sitting near, the pain not helping his frustration. He’d had it all planned out. Tomorrow was Lance’s birthday, and the group were celebrating tonight with a dinner. Keith’s term didn’t officially finish until next week so Lance was expecting him then, but Keith was really going to surprise him by being at the dinner when he arrived.

 

But now that was impossible because his flight was so delayed he’d miss the start of dinner. By almost an hour.

 

He called Shiro again. He picked up and sighed.

 

“Any news?”

 

“It’s still delayed! I’m still stuck, the desk told me we’d be taking off by now!”

 

The couple glared at him and Keith glared right back.

 

“Look, it’s okay. We can still work it out, remember the restaurant is really close to the airport.”

 

“I’m not going to make it in time though. The whole surprise is ruined.” Keith sat down heavily on the floor, not caring about being in the way or the cold of the tiles seeping into him.

 

“Well...you could have booked the earlier flight.”

 

Keith growled, and hung up on Shiro. He had a point, but Keith had planned this last week when he suddenly realised he’d be able to make the dinner, and this was the only flight he could afford. He wasn’t one to usually think through situations before acting, that was true, but weren’t the best romantic gestures spontaneous?

 

Apparently rom coms lied when it came to air travel. This was a disaster.

 

Keith tipped his head back and looked up, peering at the departures board for what felt like the millionth time, only to practically jump to his feet on seeing the green alpha-numerical combination next to his flight number. He pulled out his phone, redialed and started running.

 

“Sorry Keith, that wasn’t the right thing to say-” Shiro began but Keith cut him off.

 

“I have a gate!” He cried, looking past the twinkling shop lights and crowds to see which direction he should take. Jogging to his left, he heard Shiro chuckle.

 

“See, you just needed to be patient.” Keith rolled his eyes as he found his gate, joining the queue of disgruntled passengers waiting to be bored.

 

“Thanks dad,” he drawled, moving the phone as he began searching for his passport.

 

“I have your flight number, so I’ll track your status and meet you at arrivals. You’ll still make it before the end of dinner at this rate.”

 

Keith feels his spirit fall slightly, even as the queue continues to move. Although he was going to make it, it wasn’t quite right, wasn’t the reunion he wanted to give Lance on his birthday. This year had been hard, and this was supposed to make up for a small part of it.

 

“Keith, he’s going to love that you’re there, no matter what time you arrive. Honestly, it doesn’t matter,” Shiro said calmly, knowing in that weird way of his how Keith’s thoughts had turned.

 

“I hope you’re right,” Keith muttered.

 

“I am. I know Lance, and you do too. He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

 

Keith managed a smile at that then ended the call, impatience returning as he moved forward in the line. The rest of boarding was uneventful, and as the cabin doors were shut, he sent a quick message to Shiro confirming he was finally on his way. The flight passed in a mix of Keith distracting himself with a book he was only half reading, and imagining what he’d say to Lance when he arrived. All his previous plans had him sitting casually at the table when Lance walked in, watching as his boyfriend noticed him, seeing his reaction to the surprise. Now he wasn’t sure what he should do. Awkwardly say hi as they all ate? How was Shiro going to excuse himself half way through the meal to collect him?

 

By the time he landed he was no closer to deciding what to do, so instead focused on high-tailing it through passport control and rushing out of the airport. As promised, Shiro was waiting at the pickup point, and Keith jumped sideways into the passenger seat.

 

Shiro slid in next to him at a more normal pace, and Keith drummed his fingers of his knees, itching to take the wheel himself and speed them to Lance.

 

“Relax, it’s all fine,” Shiro said, pointedly looking at Keith’s hands as they left the car park, “You’ll make it for dessert. They actually let Hunk bring his own cake in, as it’s Lance’s favourite.”

 

With that, Keith was suddenly hit by an idea. It was cliché, cheesy as hell and probably going to cause him endless mockery from certain friends for the rest of his life. But he turned to Shiro and explained it anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

The restaurant was crowded but not overly noisy, the summer heat making everyone that little bit calmer inside. Keith hung near the front desk, feeling the awkward stares of the staff on him as he fiddled with his jacket. He was very much aware he’d been travelling for most of the day, his clothes and hair feeling that specific type of uncomfortable that comes with air travel.

 

If he peered around the coat hangers, he could see Lance. He’d not seem him without a screen in so long, and Keith just wanted to stare at the weirdest things. The way his eyelashes framed perfectly downwards, count the freckles that had blossomed over the summer, the lightened colour of his hair. Shiro was next to him, Allura on his other-side. He could hear their conversation, talking about some TV show Pidge and Lance had got mildly obsessed with recently. They were all laughing, plates cleared and it took all his willpower not to run over there right now.

 

“So you’re waiting for the cake?”

 

He jumped, the receptionist smiling at him, a waitress looking over as well. Keith nodded, turning a little red.

 

“He’s my boyfriend. It’s a surprise. I’ve just flown in.”

 

They both beamed at his confession, and his face darkened further.

 

“That’s so sweet. Well, I’m going to collect it now, so I hope you’re ready!” The waitress said with a smile, walking back towards the kitchens. Keith felt his nerves climb as the moment was announced.

 

“I think so,” he muttered.

 

“Oh, you’ll do great. It’s such a nice surprise, really. He’ll love it.”

 

Keith smiled, weirdly the reassurance from a stranger actually helping a little more than Shiro’s, who was probably bound to tell him it would all be okay. A sudden cheer from that part of the room drew his attention, and he looked over to see his friends on their feet, singing happy birthday loudly as the cake arrived.

 

As it was placed down in front of Lance, Shiro gripped his shoulders, shaking them lightly.

 

“You need make a wish.”

 

Lance groaned. “I just want to eat it! It’s my favourite, made by my favourite person.”

 

“Come on, it is tradition,” Allura said with a laugh. Lance groaned but was smiling anyway.

 

“Close your eyes,” Shiro commanded, and Lance did, already starting to lean forward.

 

“Not yet, you need to think about what you want to wish for properly,” Shiro said hastily, gesturing to Keith rapidly. Keith inhaled once and walked forward, just a few steps way from them.

 

On seeing Shiro’s weird behaviour, Allura looked up. Keith saw the realisation hit her as she noticed him, and clapped her hands over her mouth. Pidge and Hunk both turned around as she started bouncing on her heels, Hunk’s mouth falling open as he saw Keith. Then he smiled widely and moved to the side, allowing Keith to stand directly across from Lance. He saw out of the corner of his eye Pidge pull out their phone, and knew he was about to be recorded.

 

In the few second this took, Shiro had started some sort of improvised speech, and Lance had miraculously not opened his eyes.

 

“Okay, okay! I got it, I need a good wish. But I promise I have one. Now can I please blow the candles out so we can have cake?” he whined.

 

Shiro chuckled, smiled once at Keith and clapped Lance on the back.

 

“Go for it.”

 

Lance smiled and Keith was so incredibly happy to be able to see that smile in person. Lance leaned forward, blew out every candle, then straightened with eyes open only to instantly have them fall on Keith.

 

The table was silent. Lance looked as if he’d been flash frozen.

 

“Happy birthday, Lance,” Keith said into the void.

 

Then, in an instant, uproar. Lance screamed and launched himself almost fully across the table and into Keith’s arms, narrowly avoiding the cake. Allura whooped and started laughing, Pidge joining in rather manically. He heard the tell-tale sniffs of Hunk starting to cry and Shiro trying valiantly to save the cake from ending up on either of heir clothes.

 

But all he could feel was Lance in his arms; his smell of home, love and belonging filling Keith senses once more. Lance pulled back after a squeeze, hands skimming upwards across his arms, shoulders and ending framing his face. Keith exhaled into the touch, capitalising on every second of feeling the connection of their skin reform.

 

“Wishes do come true, huh,” Lance said softy, only for Keith to hear. Then he was kissing him, deeply, completely and perfectly, in just that way that Lance always did, just how he knew Keith needed him too.

 

The table erupted into cheering and Keith giggled into Lance’s mouth before sighing and returning to the kiss. It was good to be home.


	15. Day 16: Thunderpike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for reading and sharing the love! 
> 
> For Thunderpike I've kinda just gone D&D. This is actually based on an incident in my game a few weeks ago... I could write for years on incidents in D&D, I swear (see the end if you want to know what actually happened lol). 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Pidge slammed the figurine down with relish, grin just abut visible over the top of the GM screen they could barely see over. Lance gaped.

 

“Surprise round, allll on Pike. Oh, and roll for initiative, bitches.” they said, standing pretty much on their chair to roll the luminous green dice in the open.

 

“Lance, what!” Allura shrieked, banging the table and making the entire mat shake. Lance threw his hands into the air then gestured down at the D20 infront of him.

 

“I ROLLED AN 18, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

 

Pidge grinned. Allura’s dramatics had knocked over the new figure on the table, so Hunk picked it up and stared at it.

 

“Is that… a giant spider?” he said, visibly turning pale.

 

“You know it’s not actually a spider, right?” Keith asked from beside Lance, looking warily at Hunk. Under the table, Lance captured Keith’s hand, rubbing his thumb along the edge. He felt Keith’s squeeze his in return.

 

“Hunk, put it back and yes, a giant spider appears from the gloom, towering to almost the height of the cave ce-”

 

“If it’s as big as the ceiling how can I not see it when standing right in front of it with a 25 perception?!” Lance cried.

 

“Because it scored a 26 on it’s hide check and it also...definitely hits you” Pidge replied, gesturing at the numbers on the dice.

 

Lance whined and nodded, feeling Keith shuffle slightly towards him in sympathy as Pidge rolled the damage.

 

“I’m gonna need two saving throws, Lance,” Pidge added as he wrote down the damage. There was an intake of breath in the group and Hunk straightened, paying more attention than before.

 

Lance rolled. A seven and a four. Oh no.

 

“Ahhh you are sickened. And loose 2 points of con.”

 

Lance doesn’t even bother talking, just pushes his head in his hands.

 

“What does that mean?” he asked, knowing from the sounds of it and by the rest of their expressions that it couldn’t be anything good. He was the newest player, Keith having invited him to play when the group started up a new campaign a month or so ago. Lance was still learning the rules, trying to fit within the dynamics of the game, which was often confusing unless you’d been playing for years; like Pidge and Shiro had been.

 

“Sickened means he can do nothing but move. And well, vomit. He’s lost two points of constitution which brings down his maximum hit points and his fortitude saves,” Shiro rattled off, basically a walking player guide.

 

“Ouch,” Keith winced and Lance gave in, moving to sit on Keith’s lap.

 

“Avenge me, my hero,” he said, swaying dramatically, which forced Keith to hold on tighter in case he fell to the floor. It helped make him feel a little better anyway, and distracted him from feeling too much of a failure from messing up so early on in the session.

 

“Come on people, take your turns,” Pidge called and they started up the first round.

 

Shiro tried to break through to Lance but managed to trigger a swarm of tiny spiders to appear, which was annoying as the things were a pain to get rid of. Allura maked a good start in defeating them though by setting them on fire with a spell. Keith managed to fire off two arrows into the spider (Lance kissed his cheek for that, and Keith pushed him back to his own chair). Hunk double moved nearer to Lance, but not close enough to heal him. Lance was still in the spider’s range, so couldn’t risk moving without provoking it to hit him, so made a gamble to see if it would go for any of the others.

 

The spider attacked Lance. Because of course it did. It’s attack hit, and left him with less than half his hit points. Pidge was on fire and rolling almost perfectly.

 

“Two more saving throws, Pike,” Pidge called. Lance rolled, shook the aqua and pearl die between his palms and blew on it for good luck.

 

A three and a five.

 

“Still sickened. And two more con loss.” Lance grimaced at his character sheet. The evening had barely begun and he’d already taken a huge hit. Messing up the perception and still being hit each time wasn’t helping his confidence in playing. He didn’t want them to come in and save him, have them give up spells and amo when he couldn’t do his job properly.

 

“Shiro. We need to control the room.”

 

Lance looked away from his character sheet to see Keith staring determinedly at Shiro across the table, both getting into game mode. Allura was searching through Shiro’s copy of the handbook muttering about alchemists fire as she flicked through the pages.

 

Lance sat up straighter and smiled weakly to himself as Shiro started to roll, determined to act as their Paladin and take down the creature himself. As they moved through the round, Keith’s hand found its way back into Lance’s lap, wrapping their fingers together.

 

Lance did actually like this game, did enjoy the characters and the world they created. But mostly, he just enjoyed playing it with his friends; being able to be a part in what the imagined together. He liked that Keith invited him, that he asked specifically if Lance wanted to start up a character with this campaign. Liked that Keith wanted to share something he enjoyed with him.

 

He just couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if he was being too much of a pain with his questioning of the rules, and messing up.

 

It didn’t help when he missed his final save, got drained again and ended up on minus five hit points.

 

“I...think I’m dead.”

 

There was quiet, and Keith leaned over Lance’s shoulder.

 

“No, see you don’t die at zero, it’s okay Lance. You are unconscious though.”

 

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll stabilise you next go,” Hunk offered, and Lance managed a curve of his lips.

 

“One more go with the swarms and I’ll be able to add to the healing. Shiro then might actually do something useful,” Allura added.

 

“Hey, I can’t hit them!”

 

“Paladins are so useless, why do you always play that class?”

 

Allura snorted loudly and Pidge’s laughter echoed around the room. Shiro looked over at Keith, affronted.

 

“I like Paladins, and I’ve played other classes before. I just prefer them.”

 

“We literally carried pieces of you round in a bucket last campaign, how do you prefer being in a bucket than playing a different class?”

 

Pidge almost collapsed on the floor in hysterics, and Lance stared around bewildered as the others laughed. Keith saw his expression and managed to speak through peals of giggles.

 

“Shiro got hit by a spell that turned him to liquid. It was gross. We managed to find a bucket though so a wizard put him back together.”

 

Lance laughed at the picture his mind created at that, and felt comforted slightly that sometimes even Shiro, who knew this game like the back of his hand, found himself in difficult situations.

 

“Alright team, let’s focus. We can do this,” Shiro called, partly Lance thought to get them on track and partly to stop them from teasing him so much.

 

Whichever way, it seemed to work. Hunk healed him enough to get him back to single figures, and Allura cleared away the swarms in one blast. Shiro used his flaming sword to take a swipe at the spider creature, but it was Keith who saved the day. With a point blank shot and a 20 on the dice, he took the killing blow with an impressive flare.

 

The table cheered and even Pidge looked happy by the their success.

 

“So whose the hero?” Keith asked, as Hunk and Shiro went on a search for snacks.

 

Lance climbed back onto his lap, easing his lips playfully against Keith’s and letting his fingers tangle in Keith’s hair.

 

“You’re my ranger in shining armour, Thunderstorm,” he replied, allowing Keith to pull him down for one last kiss before Pidge inevitably threw things at them for being gross during game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was Lance playing in someone else's character. I nearly killed them (my own character was Allura's role and blasting spider swarms). 
> 
> Shiro's paladin bucket incident actually happened to my partner in my last campaign. Hilarious. 
> 
> Nerd life, what can I say? Feel free to come chat to me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/) for all things Klance and D&D related!


	16. Day 17: Celebrity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the fabulous support! Hope you all continue to enjoy reading.
> 
> WARNING: please see the tags but this chapter contains mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, and suicidal thoughts.

_Washed up bad-boy Keith Kogane with Hollywood’s rising star? Bad choice by Lance McClain!_

 

The headline had been blurring steadily on his phone screen; the blue-light branding the letters on his mind as the hours ticked by. Keith’s glass had been full then empty, back to full and now only the dregs of liquid and melted ice remained.

 

Shiro had tried to call him several times over the past few hours, Allura taking second place on his missed call list. Speaking to them would probably help, would eventually help, but right now he wasn’t ready.

 

The drinking definitely wasn’t helping either, but it was the his last vice. His very last one, and Keith had spent years shedding the rest of the escapisms slowly draining him of life, he could cling onto this for a little longer. The fact that he was two drinks down and already knew he wouldn’t get another was progress enough for the day.

 

Lance had not called him. But he was probably dealing with a shit storm of his own, the media half bleeding him dry and half rallying for him. It was all disgusting, hideous how Lance’s life was now sprawled out in type text for the world to see; for them to pick a side and form opinions. Keith didn’t much care about what they said of him nowadays; there wasn’t much left they could say. Lance however, was a different story.

 

He stood, reveling for a second in the way his world did not tilt, his legs stayed functioning, and he could leave the small hole-in-the-wall bar without focusing on finding a the most secluded place to empty his insides onto the street. He began the walk back to his run-of-the-mill hotel, home not being an option right now.

 

He hated staying in hotels. They reminded him of weeks running from authority, high on whatever he could put in his body that would keep him away from reality for the longest, never staying put and never staying sober. Then the inevitable aftermath of crashing back down, crawling into dirty sheets, wrecked and aching inside and out. Knowing it wasn’t any better, wasn’t going to change but wishing he’d woken up in some parallel universe where his mind didn’t feel like it was burning from the inside.

 

Shiro was right though, the press would be storming his apartment. It was weird, that sort of thing had been his life once. Keith had made his name in film at just six years old. Talented beyond his years, he’d already built an impressive filmography by the time he was eleven, and then won an Oscar. The next three years were a blur; now he couldn’t actually remember the interviews, studios and parties he’d been to.

 

Then it all started to blow up. His father died, a loss so consuming he’d not known how to contain it. He lashed out, and there was no other family, causing a fight for his guardianship and his millions. Shiro, his best friend and almost brother figure had tried to step in, but couldn’t legally do much. He’d managed one more film during his teenage years when he turned 18, still grossing indescribable amounts of cash despite his rough behaviour. But it was through that time he found ways of dealing with the pressures inside his head.

 

With enough money, you can almost buy anything. Keith could get hold of all sort of magic concoctions: things that made every numb for the days when he was filled with a current of energy that would spark and burn; things that slowed the world to almost normal speed when he was running too fast, and things that made him feel like flying when he was crashing out of orbit.

And there was a non-stop flow of parties to take his attention away, strobe light and plush rooms, pounding bass and sticky floors. Alcohol and cigarettes were a constant companion and so he vanquished his late teens by just running away.

 

He caused fights, stole Shiro’s car and turned up hungover, high or drunk to work. Directors started not to want him, his name was in every tabloid of the golden boy gone wild. Shiro was the only one who tried to actually help him, but helping meant dealing with his thoughts and emotions when all Keith wanted to do was escape them.

 

You can only run for so long though, and when he crashed out of the only film that would take him by punching the Director in the face, he had to stand still. Had to go through the pain he’d been putting off, and vanish from the lights and the parties and the constant click-click-click of cameras to lick his wounds and heal. Slowly, very slowly.

 

Now at 24, Keith had thought he was back on track. Or at least, on a new track that would take him to healthy places. He was acting again, which despite it all, he still loved. A much smaller project, and his co-star Allura had become a genuine friend quickly. Which is how he’d met Lance.

 

Lance. The smiles and talent and the personality that made him the media’s darling. He was perfect in every interview, gave just the right amount of sass and gratitude, pandered a little but stayed at arms reach enough to have a little mystery. Had perfect photo ops and perfect teeth. No bad past, no major sob story, everyone’s boy next door.

 

It had to be fake, and Keith now hated the picture-perfect fronts people put up. He disliked Lance’s weird energy, didn’t want to deal with his teasing when Keith had barely spoken to anyone but Shiro and therapists in the past few years. But the thing was, Lance was real, or as real as you can be when your life is subject to the world’s scrutiny. And the things he kept behind were because they were his.

 

He let Keith see though. The struggles of leaving his tight-knit family on the other-side of the world. The need to prove himself at every opportunity, the constant impostor syndrome. It took time, but Keith had given him some back. The stories not in the media, about nights where he thought it would be better if he just jumped off his balcony than make it through another day of pretending. The fact that so much time is missing in his head that he’s terrified of what he did in those ours. And, despite being off drugs and cigarettes for almost 3 years now, Keith was afraid that one day he’d just slide back into his old life as if he’d never left.

 

He opened up his fears and his heart, left them gaping and open and Lance stayed. Better than that, he’d held them like his own until Keith knew that somewhere along the line he’d fallen hard and fast for this goofy, wonderful man.

 

Until 2 nights ago when they’d messed up. Lance had never come out as bi, although he’d never said he was straight either. An ex from high school had even done an interview in some tabloid a few years back, but it had been mostly dismissed as rumour. Lance had always said it was the world’s problem for assuming he was straight, and he hadn’t wanted to do a big ‘reveal.’ He kept his private life well out of the media, and Keith understood that need too well.

 

They’d been at Allura’s birthday celebration, a small dinner on a beautiful evening. Keith had been at the balcony, just staring at the coloured lights, feeling the breeze catch his skin.

 

“Star gazing?” He’d turned to see Lance approach, faint laughter from the inside leaking out at the doors slid open.

 

“Just needed a moment.”

 

Lance hummed, standing close so they warmed each others. He’d intertwined his fingers with Lance’s on impulse, who had smiled widely in return. Small steps, this was still new. Still very much in the stage of discovery as they learned what the other liked and wanted.

 

“Have all the moments you need, samurai,” Lance muttered, Keith elbowing him as he leaned his head against Keith’s shoulders and giggled. He liked to nickname Keith after his roles in films,: ‘Samurai’ from one when he was fourteen and ‘mullet’ from his haircut in his very first film.

 

The mood has soared as Keith had just stood there with Lance, feeling the air and his boyfriend pressed to his side, the lights of city winking in a strangely romantic fashion. Lance had squeaked in surprise when Keith kissed him, which caused Keith to laugh. The kiss became messy and silly, wonderful and light as they stood together on that balcony and Allura had yelled for them to hurry up inside.

 

Just a moment, a wonderful moment shared with Lance. And of course someone had taken a blurry camera photo that was now plastered all over the world for everyone to see.

 

As Keith made it to his hotel, so random and nondescript, he wondered if it would have been better if he’d just left the industry, had stayed away so Lance could get on with his life and not deal with this. Keith wasn’t exactly the easiest person to date, and now their every move would be scrutinised, and every piece of Keith’s past revisited. Was it worth it? Something whispered yes to him but he couldn’t help but doubt that Lance felt the same.

 

He took the lift, exited on the fifth floor and trudged to his room. The alcohol sloshed in his otherwise empty stomach, and it was a strange moment to have a flash of inspiration but he knew he was going to stop now. No more drinking, cut it all off at the source. He just didn’t want this feeling anymore, didn’t need it.

 

When he opened the door, the lights were on and Lance was sprawled across the bed.

 

The door swung automatically shut behind Keith, leaving him gaping as Lance turned and smiled.

 

“There is absolutely nothing on TV, and room service was done an hour ago. However, I have cookies!” he said, beaming and showing the two large packets on the bed.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Keith didn’t mean for it to come out harshly, but Lance’s face fell. Keith hung his head and walked forward the few steps it took to reach the bed and Lance. The demure look had stayed on his face, and as Keith approach Lance leaned forward, pulling Keith towards him and burying his face in Keith’s stomach.

 

Keith’s hands went to Lance’s hair, stroking, calming. He waited.

 

“We decided I’d respond in a few days, let all the screaming calm down. Gives me time to figure out how to respond without telling them all to fuck off. Especially anyone saying anything about you.”

 

Lance’s hands tightened around Keith with the last sentence, and Keith felt the foreign warmth of care seep from the hug all the way through to his toes.

 

“Shiro said you were in a hotel, and I begged to let me stay with you. I know you hate hotels and...I just wanted to be with you.”

 

Lance’s hug was becoming a little too tight, so Keith gently extracted his arms, bending down and kissing Lance softly. Keith could feel him shaking and he cursed himself for not contacting Lance sooner.

 

“I’m really glad you’re here. How are you doing?”

 

Lance responded by tugging on Keith’s arm pulling him down to the bed so Lance could snuggle into him. Keith went back to carding his hands through Lance’s hair.

 

“Fine, I guess. I hate that I can’t go home, hate that someone felt the need to share that moment with a newspaper. Urg. I liked that kiss too. But I really, really hate what they’re saying about you.”

 

Keith kissed the top of Lance’s head. “It doesn’t matter what they say, I don’t care. It’s been said before, and worse. I’m more worried about you.”

 

Lance raised his head, then leaned forward to press his nose against Keith, a small nuzzle. Keith made a face and Lance giggled, only stopping when Keith raised a hand and guided him slowly to his lips, this kiss still sensitive but with a dash of fierceness, protectiveness.

 

“We’ll have more kisses. Ones they’ll never take away from us, that are just ours,” Keith murmured against his mouth. Lance shivered a little but nodded.

 

“Wanna start now?”

 

Keith leaned back, pretending to think and then said.

 

“It think I’d rather have a cookie.”

 

“What!” Lance shrieked, reaching for a decorative pillow and hitting Keith with it. Keith laughed, loud and real in the room, their own little world at least for a while.

 

Lance rolled his eyes, grabbed the closest cookie packet and practically threw it at him with a mock pout. Keith smiled, sat up a little straighter and Lance crawled back, settling down against his chest again as Keith opened them. He draped an arm over Lance’s side, and settled in for a night of bad TV, cookies and his boyfriend.


	17. Day 18: Childhood Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all your lovely support! Hope you like this one :)

The first time Lance and Keith met, Keith pushed him face first into the mud. Lance immediately started crying, which cause Keith to cry because he hadn’t meant for Lance to fall over, and really didn’t want to get in trouble when his dad has specifically told him to ‘be good’ this morning.

It was Keith’s first day. All the others in class knew everything; where they had to sit, what coloured pencils worked best and what trees you could climb before the teachers told you off. Keith wasn’t loud, had funny new shoes that hurt a bit and didn’t know any of the games the others were playing.

He’d been sitting by the edge of the playground on his own, poking a mud puddle with a stick. It was a really big mud puddle, which made it extra fun. He was just trying to see if he could throw something into the middle when the other boy appeared.

“Ooh bet I can jump across!”

Keith knew him as the boy with the big shark backpack. Sharks were kinda cool, but having a backpack with a shark was very cool.

“It’s a long way…” Keith said, uncertainly.

The boy grinned. “Are you scared?!

Keith frowned. “No,” he said. Mud wasn’t scary, mud was fun. It sloshed and squished, but Keith had new shoes on. He was almost sure new shoes and mud did not mix well.

“Then why are you sitting there, lets jump!”

Keith stood up and looked across.

“You go first,” he said.

“Okay! Will you give me a push? I’ll go super fast then!”

Keith nodded, because he both wanted the boy to go super fast and be part of someone’s game.

Except when he tried to give Lance the push to help him across, Lance tripped over, and just fell into the mud. So his plan didn’t work so well, and by the time lunch had ended, he’d been called ‘the mean boy’ by all the girls in class.

He went home and cried again, then refused to go to school the next day. Shiro, who was super old and in his last year of the school told him to stop being a baby and slammed the door before leaving. Keith pouted; he wasn’t a baby but Shiro refused to walk to school with him or talk to him in the playground. He was a stupid older brother.

Keith did not get his own way, and his dad drove him to school, then carried him crying to class.

“Keith, come on little buddy. Remember what we talked about. Say sorry to the boy you pushed, and tell him you didn’t mean it. It will all be okay if you say sorry,” his dad said, giving him a big hug before leaving. Keith sniffled, wishing he’d never let go.

He was allowed to stand outside with his teacher and calm down, but that was about it. He sat on the carpet when he went inside, right in the corner away from everyone. That was, until a girl with messy long hair sat down in front of him.

“You’re Shiro’s brother,” she said, knowing it already. Keith frowned.

“Shiro’s stupid, he’s not my brother,” he said, deciding then and there that Shiro was definitely no longer his brother. Life would be so much better.

The girl giggled. “Shiro is so stupid! Matt’s my brother, and they’re friends. Matt’s also stupid, I hate having a stupid brother.”

Keith did know who Matt was. He and Shiro had once thrown water balloons all over him while he was colouring.

“Shiro is not my brother anymore, I’ve decided.”

The girl cheered. “Yay. No brothers! Lance, come here. We don’t have brothers anymore.”

Keith jumped as the boy from the mud puddle sat down. He suddenly wanted to cry again. But Lance didn’t seem sad, he smiled at both of them.

“Does that work with sisters? I want to get rid of my sisters.”

Keith shrugged. He didn’t know anything about them, but if sisters were as bad as Shiro, then he thought they could go to.

“Oh hey! You tried to help me jump yesterday,” Lance said suddenly, before anyone answered. Keith shrank back, but remembered what his dad said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”

The boy, Lance, looked confused. “I asked you to, it’s okay! We should try and jump again, I think we can make it!”

They did spend the afternoon trying to jump the mud puddle. Lance fell in it again, but only got his shoes dirty.

“I like your shark bag,” Keith told him as they went back inside.

“Thank you! Sharks are the best!

Keith liked Lance, but he was very wrong. “No, hippos are the best.”

“What? No, sharks!”

“Hippos!”

“Sharks!”

“Hippos!”

They got told off for shouting, and glared at each other all the way through storytime. On the way home, Keith’s dad, Lance’s mum and Katie’s dad chatted while the two decided to start a race back home, with Katie as the judge. Matt and Shiro pulled faces at all of them, before heading off with their friends, smiling sweetly at their parents as if they weren’t horrible.

“It’s okay, remember, they aren’t our brothers anymore,” Katie said, patting Keith’s arm.

“Mummm, we’re racing please hold sharky!” Lance pleaded, and she took the bag with a stern look.

“Don’t go too far.” Lance nodded, then bounced back to Keith.

“I’m going to beat you because I have shark power!” he cried, punching the air. Keith didn’t’ know what shark power was, but he knew he was fast, so wasn’t worried. Plus he had to defend hippos.

“Okay!” Katie said, clapping her hands. “To the street lamp and back! One…two…three…GO!”

Keith jumped forward, ignoring the slight pain in his new shoes, as he raced towards the grey street lamp. The world flew by and his hair picked up, the speed narrowing his vision and making him smile.

However a cry from behind caught his attention, and he turned around, recognising Lance’s voice. Turning wasn’t the best idea though, as he tripped, and knocked his head straight into the pole he’d been aiming for.

* * *

 

“So within the first two days of meeting each other, one of you was in hospital?” Hunk said aghast.

“Disasters from day 1,” Pidge said sagely, sipping their beer and grinning as they finished the story.

“I knocked myself out. Lance had tripped too, and didn’t break his fall, so landed face first and lost his front tooth,” Keith elaborated for the group.

“I can’t believe you tried to disown me as your brother,” Shiro moaned, picking up his beer and sending a pout in Keith’s direction.

“You were so horrible to me, you actually refused to speak to me for months when you went to secondary school. You’d tell dad messages to pass onto me, it was so weird, Shiro,” Keith replied, and Lance grinned into his shoulder.

“I have sooo many stories, this wedding is going to be great. I’ve known you as long as you’ve known each other,” Pidge said with the devious smile Keith hated.

“I’ve got Lance’s college years covered!” Hunk added, and Lance straightened instantly.

“Buddy…please no.” Keith snorted, and raised his glass to Hunk, who matched it.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, remember I met you at freshers. In a club,” Allura replied, high fiving Lance.

“Okay, every one of you is banned from speeches. This wedding will be silent,” Keith said, making the whole table laugh.

“Oh you just try and stop us,” Shiro said. Keith downed half his drink, knowing that with these friends, he was powerless to try.


	18. Day 19: Canon divergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful comments, kudos and sharing this collection! I am glad you're enjoying reading. 
> 
> This is a divergence from S3 (yes, going way back in time!). As you can probably tell by now, I'm not a fan of Shiro's storyline so changed that up here, as well as picking up on the fabulous season 3 Klance moments. 
> 
> There will be a second part to this, as I have another idea for this verse, but didn't have time to put it all together. Whether it comes as part of this months prompts or will be a separate piece, I'm not sure yet. But stay tuned, a part 2 will be done! 
> 
> Phew, long note so please enjoy :)

It was not a good way to confess. Granted, Keith wasn’t an expert on these things, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he’d known it was bad. In his defense, they spent most of their time either in a castle ship with the same group of people, in their lions fighting or being diplomats on planets they’d rescued. Creating a time or place for a movie-esque romantic confession was simply not possible.

 

However, apparently blurting out his feeling to Lance just after a mission was not right either.

 

Keith grimaced, recollections of the incident playing on a loop in his mind, and fell back heavily onto his bunk. He wanted to just sleep, skip time and wake up when everything was stable and didn’t require such constant emotional responses from him. He’d never been good with emotions, always experiencing them either in excess of not at all, and mostly they triggered a fight or flight response.

 

But ever since he’d ran to the Black Lion, been let inside see Shiro comatose and unresponsive, he’d been thrown so far out of his comfort zone he didn’t even think such a place existed any more. Shiro was still not awake. Still in a coma, still completely out of reach to even Coran and Allura’s technology. Keith checked every day, looked for any sign: the twitch of an eye, a hair out of place. But still he lay there, as if frozen in a moment.

 

Keith could barely handle that. He knew he’d been balancing on a knife edge since that moment, and it was partly the work of the rest of the team, and particularly Lance, that forced him to stay upright. The other factor was being temporarily chosen by The Black Lion. It was, without a shadow of a doubt, temporary. Both Lance and Allura agreed on this two.

 

He could just feel it. Feel the connection he still had to red, that ever-present burst of life and presence in his mind that he’d grown to love. Red was still his, and he was hers. She whispered her encouragement with every fight, her need to jump to the very centre of a fray and battle to the last. But she was giving him, for the moment, to Black. Black hummed in a different way; one long, steady reverberation that made him want to straightened up and do right.

 

But he could feel it distantly, knowing that as Shiro was still alive, they were tethered together. It was the one thing that gave him hope that Shiro would wake up, had to wake up. The sooner the better.

 

He was not a good leader. He didn’t make good group decisions, hell most of the time he was criticised for the decisions he made for himself. Lance seemed to be spearheading a ‘let’s all believe in Keith’ mantra for the other three, but when Keith so obviously did not want the role, it was hard to keep it going.

 

Keith wasn’t calm enough in flying Black, Lance couldn’t quite keep up with Red and Allura just struggled in general, which was natural never having flown a lion before. Except they needed to learn fast, to keep up with Lotor’s plans. And they did not have time to run drills like they had when they’d first started out, and part of Keith was reluctant to try when he went to sleep every night hoping tomorrow would be the day Shiro awakened.

 

The disastrous mission to the storm planet was still recent enough to attack his mind at 3am. What he could have, should have, would have done differently; what _Shiro_ would have done. It was only Lance literally stepping in and helping that made sure they got out of there in one piece.

 

It also started a chain reaction of emotional responses culminating in him sitting (he was not hiding or sulking or licking his wounds, nope) alone in his room reliving past mistakes. Before now he’d already established he liked Lance more than, or at least differently than, the rest of the team. No one annoyed him like Lance, motivated him like Lance, allowed him to actually let go and be himself like Lance. He could be...free, not feel like he was been crushed down by too much of the past or the potential future. He had someone who would match him mood for mood in their own way, not slide away, dismiss or reprove him for his actions. Lance was, not that he’d admit it, fun. Genuinely fun, he lit up the room and encompassed anyone, no matter who they were, in his wake.

 

He was talented, although he didn’t actually believe it. Keith wasn’t really sure how to approach that one, but Lance seemed to less self conscious when he thought he was competing with Keith, so he let that run. He was brave; taking that blast for Coran even though they’d only just arrived in space is something Keith would never forget. Nor was the fear and anxiety in waiting for Lance to heal, only matched now by Shiro.

 

He liked being around Lance; just generally felt better in his presence, even when Lance was deliberately teasing him. They did (as Lance had once said), make a great team. And Lance made him feel like he could take over the world when they worked side by side.

 

He was also hot. Keith had eyes, even though up until this point he’d mostly dismissed or pushed down most of his attractions. It seemed Lance was persistent in keeping his attention though, and combined with all that information plus his encouragement as Keith had taken the seat as the leader, had led him to a conclusion that had been staring him in the face for a long time.

 

He’d fallen for him.

 

Realisation was one thing but what happened next was a mystery. All his teenage life, Keith had something better to concentrate on than distant crushes, not that he’d had many. He didn’t exactly have the normal growing up experience. Understanding himself well enough to know he was gay was the extent of his romantic investigations up until this point.

 

He narrowed it down to two options: saying nothing or saying something. Neither were great, staying silent meant it would probably come out in other ways or slip out uncontrollably, and while saying something meant he had the upper hand on this emotional mess it meant well...talking. About emotions.

 

Deciding, in his usual fashion, to meet it head on and quickly, he grabbed Lance straight out of the Red Lion a few days after the aforementioned awful mission.

 

“Lance, I need to talk to you.”

 

The rest of the team stopped, turning to the two of them.

 

“Is Lance in trouble?” It may have been his imagination, but Pidge sounded almost gleeful at the prospect. Keith frowned.

 

“What? No.”

 

Lance seemed to relax, which made Keith wince.

 

“Sure man, let me get changed.”

 

Keith nodded, and did the same, the two meeting back in the kitchen area soon after.

 

“What’s up? Man, I’m always starving after flying Red is that normal? Did you have that? Maybe I’m just imagining it...” Lance trailing off, sticking a spoon of goo into his mouth with only a mild shudder.

 

It took a moment for Keith’s brain to catch up with the run-on sentence.

 

“Oh...no, not particularly.”

 

Lance nodded, taking the spoon out and digging back into the bowl.

 

“Just me then. So, are you doing okay? What did you want to talk about?”

 

Keith inhaled once, nerves flocking to him suddenly. He hated that feeling; cotton wool being stuffed down his throat, heart racing like he’d run for miles. Nerves weren’t something he usually let affect him, but they seemed unstable today.

 

Lance just peered at him, continuing to eat goo. With the next mouthful, he accidentally smeared a little on his cheek.

 

_Focus, Keith._

 

“Lance...I like you. In a non-teammate way. As well as in general appreciating you as a teammate.”

 

Lance stopped eating. Keith started to sweat. There was still goo on Lance’s face.

 

_Okay, try again that wasn’t_ _quite right._

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.”

 

The result of that was Keith blushed harder than he had in his life, and had to look to his left. Unexpected reactions, and neither helping the increased heart rate or the sweating.

 

Lance coughed, possibly choking a little on the food go, making Keith look back in alarm.

 

“You’re pretty sure,” Lance screeched, voice higher than Keith was expecting, making him wince.

 

“Fairly certain,” Keith acknowledged as, well, it was a fairly new feeling and he had nothing to compare it to.

 

“Fairly...okay, and you just thought you’d tell me over a nice bowl of food goo?!”

 

This was an actual disaster, and Keith felt himself move from nervous to panicked, and as that happened, apparently the slim grasp he had at saying the appropriate thing left him.

 

“There’s some on your face,” Keith said, which made Lance blush as he squeaked and started wiping haphazardly at his face in search of it.

 

Keith took the opportunity to stand, fight or flight kicking in as Lance was distracted. He really, really needed to be alone now. The sudden thud of realisation of just how bad this now was had occurred, and he cursed his recklessness in thinking it would have been best to say anything at all.

 

“I...I should leave you to...sort it out.”

 

A curse and the sound of a chair being pushed back as he walked out of the room as fast as he possibly could without running.

 

“Wait, Keith, don’t you dare-”

 

He did dare, running straight to his room as soon as he was out of sight.

 

* * *

 

 

Now laying fully on the bed, face red once again from remembering the botched confession, Keith wondered exactly how he should handle this. Their team dynamic was already temperamental, and he’d just made it worse. Lance had been nothing but supportive since Shiro’s injury and that was doomed to fade away with Keith’s rash confession.

 

What had he even wanted from Lance? The thought of Lance returning these sticky, strange emotions was good...like a rush of diving head-first into a wormhole, appearing out the other side in a blast on uncertainty and excitement of a new place. But a plan for what that new place would be? He didn’t have one, hadn’t thought that far ahead.

 

His thoughts were forbidden from circling further when someone rapped loudly on the door, causing him to jump up in one fluid motion to his feet.

 

“Keith!”

 

As if he were expecting someone else, he returned to the panic mode of 30 minutes ago. Keith knew he had to face this though, knew now Lance was here he wouldn’t give up.

 

He walked stiffly to the open panel, touching it gently. When it swept open, Lance was standing there, but paced in swiftly as Keith moved out of the door-frame. As the door closed, Lance turned, marching back over to Keith, poking him none too gently in the chest.

 

“What exactly was that, huh?”

 

“I thought it was obvious,” Keith muttered, moving out of poking distance, not wanting to go over the conversation again.

 

Lance groaned, hands flying upwards in exasperation. “No, not entirely. While I was literally stuffing my face with green alien sludge you drop the bomb shell of probably liking me then before I can react run away?!”

 

“I did not run.”

 

“You ran around the corner when you thought I couldn’t see, mullet, I saw you.”

 

He wasn’t going to win that one, and the day of emotional turmoil had Keith at the end of his tether.

 

“Look, I told you how I feel, Lance. I...I’ve fallen for you. I’m not saying it again,” Keith said, hating that he was once again blushing, had spent most of this day blushing and heating up.

 

Lance visibly deflated, a soft, searching look coming to his face, his arms falling back to his side.

 

“Huh...um wow.”

 

Keith was comforted by the fact that Lance had started to turn red. A heavy awkward silence decended on the two of them. Lance broke it by stepping forward, hand coming to Keith’s shoulder. Just like the time when he’d comforted him after stepping out of Black for the first time, a small noise escaped him at the zing of the contact. Lance smiled.

 

“I like you too, Keith. I don’t think I’m ready to say anything more than that, not yet. But...”

 

He trailed off, hand moving slowly down from his shoulders to his waist, his other arm looping around until until Lance could carefully pull Keith forward so there’s no longer any space between them. Keith mimicked Lance’s position with his arms, fingers gripping tightly into the hoodie, scrunching it between his fingers.

 

The next move was inevitable. Keith moved his face forward an inch, trying to align it best he can with Lance’s.

 

“So, does this mean I’m gonna be your first kiss?” Lance asked, grinning as he did so. Keith’s eye twitched once.

 

“Not sure if I want to kiss you now,” he replied, moving back so infinitesimally it may as well have not happened.

 

“Aww, no, don’t be like that. I’ll rock your world, baby.”

 

Keith could feel himself smiling, could see Lance smiling even this close.

 

“I doubt that, and don’t ever call me that again.”

 

“Hmm, not a fan huh? How about babe? You’re definitely a ‘babe’ kinda guy”

 

It was ridiculous and cheesy and sort of fantastic in it’s bizarre nature, but Keith was done with flirting so pushed his lips against Lance’s, possibly a little too hard that necessary. Lance made a huffing sound, then kissed right back, one arm releasing Keith’s waist to cup his jaw carefully. Lance started to guide the kiss, winding his fingers in the back of Keith’s hair as he did. Keith followed the motions, sighing as Lance’s arm squeezed him ever closer.

 

“Keith? Keith, are you there?”

 

Keith broke away from the kiss, sending what he hoped was an apologetic look in Lance’s direction as he tapped the intercom.

 

“What is it, Pidge?”

 

“Shiro’s awake! He-”

 

His mind refused to process the rest, stuck on two words alone that brought that part of him, the small, still-child part of him that wished for family and was finally, finally given that, back to life.

Without thinking, Keith grabbed Lance’s arm and pulled him towards the door.

 

“Whoa, okay Keith, hang on,” he heard distantly and felt as he continued to move Lance twist himself so they were holding hands rather than him clinging to first limb he could find.

 

Together, they ran through the castle ship, Keith pulling Lance along slightly until he burst almost head first through the doors of the medical bay. They were the last to arrive, Coran smiling widely nearest the door, Allura standing by the head of a bed, Hunk to it’s left and Pidge sitting carefully on the edge of the right side.

 

And there was Shiro. Sitting up. Smiling, actually _moving,_ or had moved enough to be in an upright position. Keith just stared, panting slightly. Shiro’s smile widened and he lifted his mental arm in a wave.

 

“Hey Keith, Lance.”

 

Keith must have been rooted to the ground, for he stumbled slightly when Lance pushed him forward, releasing Keith’s hand. Then he was moving, the others parting for him as he stumbled to Shiro’s bedside, practically falling to his knees as he leaned down to wrap Shiro in the gentlest hug possible.

 

“You’re awake” he said, feeling Shiro’s arm tighten around him. Shiro laughed and Keith’s entire being relaxed, as people who laugh are alive and safe, and not about to leave him stranded for the fourth time.

 

“I am. And apparently I’ve missed a lot.”

 

Keith pulled back and took up a position sitting on the side of the bed. Coran immediately launched into the story of the team’s new configuration and fights with Lotor, the others chipping in to correct and add moments when Coran deviated too much. Lance moved up behind Keith, hand coming to rest on his side. Keith leaned back against it slightly, a small private grounding that he desperately needed.

 

“Shiro needs his rest. We can talk more in the morning,” Allura said after a while, and Keith had to agree, Shiro already seemed to be flagging.

 

They said their good-nights, but Keith lingered slightly. Lance nodded at him, making a motion towards the door, which Keith interpreted as an ‘I’ll wait’ signal, so nodded back.

 

When it was just Shiro and him, he turned back. Shiro looked exhausted so Keith stood too, wanting to spend more time with him but knowing it was best to go.

 

“Sounds like you’ve done a good job of keeping the team together. I’m proud of you, Keith.”

 

The sentence sent warmth flurrying through him, like coming back to a heated house after a freezing day. He smiled, feeling his eyes blur and clear again by sheer force of will.

 

“Hardly. I don’t think I’m cut out to be the leader. We’ve only just hung on, waiting for you to come back.”

 

Shiro frowned and shook his head.

 

“I don’t think that’s true. You’re selling yourself short. But you can tell me about it tomorrow.”

 

Tomorrow. There was a tomorrow where he’d wake up and be able to talk to Shiro again.

 

“It’s good to have you back,” Keith said, not sure he could put into words exactly how true that statement was.

 

“Good to be back. Now, stop keeping Lance waiting.”

 

Keith straightened, mouth going wide in shock as Shiro actually winked at him, and gestured to the door. Completely floored, he managed a garbled reply that he hoped resembled something of a ‘goodnight’ then left the room, Shiro’s laughter accompanying him,

 

Lance was indeed waiting, and smiled when Keith approached.

 

“How’s he doing?” Lance asked as they fell into step with one another. Keith jumped slightly when Lance took his hand again, and covered it with a small cough. Lance either didn’t notice or pretended not to.

 

“He’s tired. But seems okay. I’m just glad he’s awake now.”

 

“We all are. It’s good to have him back,” Lance replied, swinging their hands slightly as they took the short walk to their rooms. Keith found every step a challenge, realising just how much had happened it a few hours. He could feel him limbs aching for rest, his mind already shutting down.

 

As if sensing this, when they reached his room, Lance pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

 

“Get some rest. I’ll see you bright and early, mullet.”

 

A quick, hot flash of intense fear sped through him, and Keith lunged back towards Lance’s hand. Lance turned, surprise and concern in his face.

 

“Just… this is happening... right? It’s all real?” his voice was small in the long, sterile corridor, seeming to echo across the small gap between them.

 

Lance made a soft sound and then was just there, right in front of Keith, cradling his face between his hands. The kiss which followed was thorough, eliciting a gasp from Keith that Lance used to draw him closer, radiating electricity and warmth, keeping Keith secluded and protected in it’s wake.

 

Lance drew back until their foreheads touched, then placed a light, sweet single kiss to his lips.

 

“This is all real Keith. You’re gonna get up tomorrow and Shiro will still be awake. And I’ll be here.”

 

Keith kissed him for that, learning to take the initiative with every avenue Lance showed him. They parted reluctantly, and Lance hugged him quickly once before walking to his own room door.

 

“You know where I am,” he called with a wink, then vanished into his own room.

 

Keith rolled his eyes then walked to his door, blindly getting ready for bed on mix between ecstatic and exhausted.

 

And it the morning, it was just as Lance said. Shiro was awake, and Lance greeted him with a sweeping kiss in front of everyone. Which after the past few weeks, he was only slightly annoyed about.


	19. Day 20: Leakira and Roommates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh this was fun to write. So much fun, I love cyberpunk a lot. Hope I've done it justice, and I hope I've done Leakira right! 
> 
> I also added on roommates to this prompt, so double today. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading so far, hope you enjoy this one!

_Spark up. Lights dim. Enable coding matrix, fall through the void. Fizzle of static, red burst in the vision and he’s down in three...two...one…_

 

_Into the mainframe._

 

* * *

 

 

The circuit was stained ultraviolet, the neon décor of Old Town ever present, and it’s coding was just that old that Akira could make out the fine tuned stitching the ‘frame was using to wistfully hold it together. His bike sailed, blurs the colours until it was just a mass of purple-to-blue and there wasn’t far to go now. This job was easy, it wasn’t that tough to hack into Old Town, but it was the main place for hiding anything. The laws barely touched it and no-one sane spent more time than they had to here. Anyone who did had something to hide.

 

A dash of indigo.

 

Akira turned to see a darkness looming, something shaping and twisting towards him as he rode, forming into coherency. A car, switching from shapeless dark to blue, bright like pollutionless sky and open topped.

 

_Shit. It’s him._

 

Akira flipped the code of the bike, morphing the world around him. The gears shifted, the handles tilted up and he was airborn, twisting away as the first shot was fired. It sparked into nothing but the burn hissed near his shoulder. A close one, always close when Leandro was at the wheel.

 

Akira gritted his teeth and held steady, switching to the left and guiding himself on the way out of Old Town, the noise of the convertible engine roaring beneath him. The job was barely a few hours old, but Leandro was good, the best at what he did, so would have beat him out if he were faster. Akira grinned as the neon signs glowed and he was done, hand rising to reach the floating monitor above the entrance.

 

_Whited out vision_. The preprogrammed locating software launched, and the hover bike vanished, his legs flying out abruptly. In a practised manoeuvre he braced himself, and ground came up to meet him. He blinked, focusing on the crowded streets as he was instantly thrust into Central City, the ‘frames capital. Sky scrapers topped the horizon, each blaring it’s own advertisement, the near J-pop earworm or newsblast from whichever agency currently held power. Akira slipped in nicely, hair a shock of white against the black strap of his googles, the only real differing aspect of his online persona from his real self.

 

The client waited at a cafe on the fourteenth floor of a building blaring news of the next deep diving product craze. Akira didn’t even bother to clock it, anything Pidge made could top whatever was on the market, even if their payment asks were unorthodox. The cafe was staffed by masked androgynous servers dressed in grey body suits, whose voices were all tuned to some high pitched frequency that made his ears smart. A barrage of language choices appeared as he entered, and he switched to Korean for the hell of it.

 

The client at the table nursed a watered-down cocktail and looked up only when he sat down. They were non-descript, wearing an average Joe male skin that could bought for pittance at any high street store. Akira reached out, tapped his middle finger of his left hand on the table once, and a tiny data chip hit the wood. The man nodded, placing his palm on the chip, removed it after three second and there was nothing to be seen.

 

“You want a drink?” he asked, gesturing to his own. Akira stood, shaking his head.

 

“Have a good day,” the client replied, sparing him hardly a glance as he left. Akira tipped the greeter, sending a thanks in Korean, and took the stairs down two at a time.

 

He was there at the exit, lounging against the door, eyes closed, brown hair tousled and curling. He grinned as Akira approached.

 

“Nice flying, Samurai.”

 

“You were late,” Akira remarked, shouldering passed Leandro as he left the building. The man followed, his blue jacket catching Akira’s eye with each step.

 

“Ah, but it was such a dull job. I only wanted to see you sweat a bit.”

 

The statement was accompanied with a wink, and Akira felt his pulse spike. They’d stopped moving, Akira glaring at him while Leandro smirked.

 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

 

Leandro laughed, hand resting on the barrel of the retracted laser gun attached to his hip. He wore a brass, code encircled spyglass over one eye, recently used to aid in his firing at Akira.

 

“Never when you’re around, darling,” Leandro drawled, and Akira hated that it made him both angry and hot at the same time. His vitals beeped once. Rising heart rate. Fuck you, stupid heart.

 

Instead of responding, Akira spun on his heel, aiming for the release point not to far from here. Enticing lights and the call of sleep in reality beckoned, but before he’d made even a few steps in the other direction, Leandro grabbed his hand. Not a threat, not a wrist turn, not a virus pulsed to his enhancements. A touch, virtual skin on skin.

 

Akira allowed himself to be turned around, but flinched when he realised how close Leandro was. Almost forehead to forehead now, his googles clicking against the metal of the eye device. The uncovered eye before him shone cerulean, the covered one today a contrasting rose, riddled with data streams.

 

“You have a copy?” a murmur, a shade of a secret. His lips too close.

 

“Always,” Akira muttered in kind.

 

“That’s my mullet. Stay safe.”

 

A brush of lips on his (or was it really? Almost, not quite, a disruption in the string of numbers, an occurrence already gone and forgotten) and Leandro was walking away with a wave and swagger in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

 

_Disengage. Blood on fire, just one moment, a startling headache. Plunge into freezing water then blinded for three...two..one…_

 

_Back home._

 

* * *

 

 

He always had a headache after being in Central City, but luckily his roommate had a stock of medicine to rival an actual hospital, and didn’t seem to mind him taking it. A good thing too, seeing as the nearest medical centre was hours away and Akira had no transport in the real world. Actual bikes or cars were expensive, and most of his work was virtual.

 

He’d met his roommate once since moving in. He’d been masked at the time, worked some sort of chemical job, stabilising the connection to the mainframe, and had just been popping in to collect something. They’d exchanged hellos and names (he used Keith when here, not his real name, but worked as something mundane and forgettable), so knew he was called Lance, worked a lot and was aggressively tidy. Ideal, really.

 

He ate some variety of ramen that was left over, uploaded the stolen data onto his personal drive and waiting for the code breaker to do it’s work.

 

He needed to scan it carefully. He usually did this after a job anyway, but the fact that Leandro had asked made him sure to do so with more caution than usual.

 

His thoughts wandered as the data flashed through the systems. While Akira hacked secret codes and information for clients, Leandro was a runner, hired to move information from place to place for other hackers to take. Their paths had been crossing for a while, and occasionally Leandro had managed to take one of his jobs.

 

He was an excellent shot, not that Akira would admit it to his face. It made things complicated. Akira could do well in short range, but was no sniper. Leandro seemed to have tech on his side as well, sporting homefashoned gizmos that would make his own creator drool.

 

He was also stunningly attractive. Not really his skin, as appearances were forever altering in the ‘frame landscape, depending on mood, job or location (although Leandro’s tended to stay the same or similar, his right eye colour, tech and jacket the only changes he really noticed) but the self he projected. Cocky, arrogant but a perfectionist, making bulls-eye shots and racing Akira through neon lighted tracks. He gave warnings, cryptic messages left in his work stream, words whispered like this evening. He cared, in as much as one could in this world.

 

He was also a flirt, and Akira was not exactly used to people using lines and movements on him, so it tended to trip him over. As he said before, fuck you, stupid heart.

 

A beep and the data was ready. Akira stalked over to the screen, half eaten bowl of ramen in hand. At first it seemed fairly standard, encoded messaging of some sort of trade between parties. Nothing unusual, business was business and most transactions you didn’t want authorities to know about were done via Old Town. That was until he noticed a pattern, a repetition of a number sequence that seemed to disrupt the flow. He calculated, memorised, watched it flow until he was sure he he could…

 

Oh hell. Oh hell no, what had he done?

 

He dropped the bowl, sprung up and grabbed the data chip and his own drive before racing out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

The Holt siblings were both hooked directly into the ‘frame when he arrived, the wires sticking out of Pidge’s spine making him shiver. They turned, glasses reflecting the patterns of maroon and turquoise as their fingers never ceased their blur on the opaque table before them. Matt, thankfully was full immersed, as the sheer number of wires protruding from his skull was frankly terrifying. Akira was glad he wasn’t conscious at the same time.

 

“You said it was urgent? Not like you to race over here so soon after a job.”

 

Akira grunted and placed his drive next to their moving hands.

 

“I found something in the data. It’s...it’s big, Pidge.”

 

A momentary cease in movement, attention refocusing out of the ‘frame. The screen turned amber.

 

“What type of big.”

 

“Galra.”

 

“Shit,” Pidge swore, hands moving instantly. The screen turned dark and they swirled in their chair.

 

“Are you sure? They’ve been dead on any waves for months now.”

 

“I’m sure. I couldn’t decipher the rest of it, but it’s them.” Akira pointed to the data chip.

 

Pidge nodded, then took the chip and placed the drive on the table. “I’ll wipe everything as I go.”

 

The screen illuminated, green, Pidge’s signature sequence, blasted through the room, bouncing off walls and discarded machinery. Even the cables lit up, all focused on discovery.

 

Akira stepped back, head-aching through the pills he’d take earlier. The Galra were an underground ‘frame realised group. They’d assimilated in that world completely, but were bent on altering code in the most destructive and disastrous ways to suit their own needs. They’d destroyed cities, livelihoods and people. They’d managed to alter DNA of real world individuals through capturing their skins and experimenting on the coding. They’d experimented on people, and those who survived almost always wished they hadn’t.

 

And they’d killed Akira’s brother. The only family he’d ever had. Along with Sam; Pidge and Matt’s father, their shared loss on the same day tying them in a warped bond they never could have wished for.

 

A dimming of the lights to a faded green and he turned, seeing Pidge stand and push free of the spine conductor, the bolts releasing with a pop like joints. They turned slowly, balance wavering as they adjusted to their full body.

 

“Akira, this isn’t just big. It’s papers on something called ‘Quintessence,’ some sort of new experiment they have planned. I’m going to work on deciphering it further, as I think there might be hints of what it does. I need time though.”

 

Akira nodded, knowing this was in safe hands.

 

“Oh, and you have a message.”

 

Pidge grinned wickedly, their face half lit by the pale green light in a way that made their features sharper and more alien than anything he’d seen in the ‘frame.

 

Akira sighed. He could guess with that look who it was from.

 

* * *

 

 

He should really have cleaned up the noodles, but he didn’t have time to make the journey back and meet at the rendezvous point on time. Besides, there was nowhere safer and faster to engage than with Pidge. Hopefully his roommate wouldn’t be home to see the mess.

 

“Want us to monitor you?” Matt asked, still hooked up but thankfully not directly into his brain any longer.

 

“We shouldn’t crash their date.”

 

Akira rolled his eyes.

 

“Leandro tipped me off, so it’s probably sensible,” he responded to Matt, but Pidge snorted.

 

“At that location, okay sure. Plus Leandro’s sound.”

 

Akira shot up in surprise, staring at them. Pidge barely moved before replying:

 

“No, I’ve never met them. But I know their gear engineer. He wouldn’t furnish someone who wasn’t on the level. It’s probably why he’s arranged this, as Hunk will know I work with you.”

 

Too many crossing pathways and information swaps.

 

* * *

 

 

_Electricity inside the mind, and sawdust in the mouth. Inhale lava, exhale broken bark. Fairylights in the inside of the eyes, a sheen of silver glitter. Three...two...one._

 

_Back here_

 

* * *

 

 

Not a place to ride a bike, too narrow and too many crossings, ever-flowing individual traffic. A good place to meet though, so Akira won’t begrudge him that much. He wasn’t too concerned about being traced, not with Pidge and Matt tracking every movement, but at this point being too careful wasn’t a possibility. He walked through the dizzying streets and into a bar. He felt the pulsing beat of the dance floor rise up through his feet and rattle his mind but he was out of the strobe lights and onto the balcony before he could absorb much. The sound was a dim memory pulsing behind as he navigated past tables and tables to the far corner.

 

To Leandro.

 

He was already there, of course. Near the balcony, a glowing purple tall iced drink before him, starring into the view of skyscraper upon skyscraper. Akira spent a moment staring at his profile. He’d never had the chance to just see him up close, always either dodging, running or trading fast-talk in a flash. He wore his trademark headgear, metal glowing with streaks left over from the club inside. He wore blue, trademark colour of his, a shock of brown hair falling over his forehead and ending in an undercut. His right ear was studded with metal from lobe upwards, tiny pinpoints in the dark. A good look, for sure. He was also an expert at looking casual. Even from this distance, Akira could tell he was primed, a jack-in-the-box longing for a trigger.

 

Akira approached slowly but confidently, and Leandro turned his gaze lazily, expecting. He beamed, his eye this time an eerie pure white.

 

“You got the message!”

 

“I did.”

 

“Sit, sit, Samurai. Have a drink,” he winked, taking a sip of whatever concoction the luminous glass contained.

 

“I’d rather just get this over with,” Akira replied, but did take a seat. This was...unfamiliar. His instincts told him Leandro was fairly on the line, at least not in league with anything he’d fight against, and the conversation with Pidge had helped settle this. But they fought for jobs, were competitors to their clients and generally based their relationship on the thrill of subverting one another. Close proximity and a potentially shared goal set him on edge.

 

Leandro pouted, genuinely stuck out his bottom lip and tilted his head sadly. It was both alluring and terrifying.

 

“Aww, but we’re actually getting to talk after so long! I was looking forward to meeting my rival properly. You must have time for a little heart-to-heart?”

 

He signalled over his shoulder and Akira sighed, realising he’d have to play along, at least for a while.

 

“I’ve always wanted to know where that bike of yours is from. My engineer isn’t so into vehicles, but even he says it looks like a custom job. Nothing I’ve seen around compares.”

 

Akira smirked, leaned his shoulders back across the chair, hands dangling, back stretching comfortably. Leandro tracked the movements with the real and digital eye. Interesting.

 

“I made it.”

 

It usually shocked people, and Leandro was no exception. His drink arrived before more questions could be asked, this thing a bubbling red potion in a tall, frosted glass. Akira looked at in disgust, but as soon as the server moved, Leandro quizzed him.

 

“But you’re not an engineer. How did you make an entire bike?”

 

“I’m not, I just always wanted something like this. So I learned. I also had help.”

 

“From Shiro?”

 

His focus locked down in an instant, hand slipping to the back of his belt, back to his weapon, his safety. A sniper-rifle vision on Leandro, the line crossed, the spell broken.

 

“What do you know about my brother?”

 

Leandro held his hands up instantly, a buzz and whir from the equipment, something both seen and unseen. Akira tightened the hold on his knife.

 

“Whoa, hey, hey. Calm down. I went to the Garrison, I knew Shiro. Not as well as Pidge and Matt, but I knew him. He was kinda my hero. Well, I think he was everyone’s. You can check with them, I swear.”

 

A beep, a line of text across his vision.

 

_Affirmative. Calm down_.

 

Fine. Just this once. His range of vision widened, grip on his weapon ceased, hands moving back to the table. His drink still bubbled softly between them.

 

Leandro relaxed down as well, offering an apologetic smile in return. Akira tugged his mouth upwards automatically, not really sure why he felt the need.

 

“He talked about you a lot, you know.”

 

The grey taste of sadness in the back of his throat. It had been two years since Shiro died, and it never did get easier, just became a numb coldness that spread outwards from his heart. There wasn’t anything that could replace his brother, or heal the hurt his death had left behind. So it just festered, slowly until he was more of that than anything else.

 

Pidge was much the same, but they buried the loss of their father in engineering, investigation and modification, drawing them deeper and deeper into plot and mystery. Akira just wanted to flee from it all; ride hard and fast until nothing, not even sadness, could catch up.

 

“I miss him,” he admitted, the thought slipping out. He wanted to scream and deny it as soon as it escaped, and he didn’t understand why he confessed it to this runner, glowing in neon stripes and speaking in strange flirtatious nothingness. But Leandro still gave him that sad, understanding look, then reached across and grasped his hand on the table.

 

“I can imagine,” he murmured and Akira was frozen with their hands tied, the city screaming in his ears and lights shooting sickly rainbows into his vision.

 

“You really don’t recognise me, do you?”

 

It was so soft that Akira almost missed it, and even then wasn’t sure Leandro actually said it. He blinked, unsure of what to say or do next, this whole night turning topsy-turvy so he’s floating upside down and just waiting for crash land.

 

“Time’s up!”

 

Akira jerked at the sudden exclamation, and Leandro smiled widely, standing up. He still held Akira’s hand, dragging him up as he did.

 

“What? We’ve barely even discussed-” But Leandro shook his head, cutting him off.

 

“Don’t worry babe, you’re definitely getting a second date. I’ll call you.”

 

And with that he winked, pulled Akira’s hand up and kissed it before turning, and _jumping_ off the balcony in one clean motion. For a second Akira was too shocked to even move, then without thinking launched himself off the balcony as well. It wasn’t too far of a jump, and he landed in well lit small street, a couple screaming as he just missed hurtling into them. He looked both left and right, saw nothing so tore to his left which led back towards the main street. But there were too many people, too much light and no movement to be had. Akira cursed, and looked around for a disengage port. A waste of time.

 

* * *

 

 

“That wasn’t a waste of time, you idiot. You just got distracted by a pretty face.”

 

Akira stared at Pidge, feeling drained and sick from going back and forward too much today. Pidge rolled their eyes, the sole connector they were now hooked up to pulling taught as they approached where he sat slumped and recovering.

 

Pidge grabbed his hand, and ran a circular piece of jet metal over the top. He flinched as it pulled with an electronic hum, and a thunk of something snapping in to it.

 

“He gave you more data.”

 

Akira opened his mouth in annoyance, then clashed it shut. He was annoyed at himself for missing it, and partly annoyed Leandro would use that moment to just pass on information.

 

Which was not the direction he should be going in, so dismissed it quickly. Fuck you, stupid heart.

 

The screen before Pidge lit up, reels and reels of code making Akira’s eyes itch. He longed to be asleep, away from anything ‘frame related, rest his body and his mind. Pidge hummed.

 

“This will take a while, it’s a good code.”

 

There was an unmistakable sound of excitement in the statement, and Akia knew it would be best to leave everything to them. He saw himself out, knowing there would be no answer if he tried communicating with Pidge or Matt verbally. Once in the zone, very few things could bring them out.

 

He was home before he knew it, the cold of reality and the muted noises and sounds a soothing balm on his tired and wired senses. He was asleep quickly, not even sure if his roommate had come home.

 

In his dreams he was still there, hooked up like Pidge though, a visor stuck on his face. He could see through it, everything tinged in purple nubulars, stars exploding in a night-struck sky. Leandro appeared beside him, cradling at his face through the visor in a way that would have been comforting had it been skin on skin. He pushed the contraption off Akira’s head, and it smashed to pieces of the floor. When Akira looked back, Leandro was standing further away, wearing that trademark smirk.

 

“ _You really don’t recognise me, do you?”_

 

The same words as before, and it hit him, realisation as clear as midnight and he reached out, opened his mouth-

 

But Akira was melting, clothes dripping off into a puddle, smile all that remained in the dark as his flesh peeled back and his bones turned molten. An alarm sounded in the distance, the purple world growing darker and darker.

 

“ _Better get that, Samurai. "_

 

* * *

 

 

Akira sat up, dream echoing in his head, only to realise the beeping was in the room and not left from the nightmare. He scrambled over to the communicator still in his jeans’ pocket, hooking it into his ear.

 

“You need to come back.”

 

“Pidge?”

 

“Now, Akira. It’s happening now. Get back, and dive in.”

 

The call disconnected, but he was up on his feet in a second, his body understanding the implications before his mind had caught up. It was barely light, meaning he’d had a few hours rest at least. As he stumbled through the apartment, he noticed the spilt ramen had been cleared up, and he winced. His roommate shouldn’t have to do things like that. Making a mental note to apologise in some way, Akira left and made it to the Holts in record time. Still panting, Pidge dragged him to a chair. Their eyes were wild, bloodshot and vaguely blue-tinged from some type of chemical stimulant.

 

“We don’t have much time. Your client was a Galra, and these were mission plans. It’s happening in one hour, at a location in Old Town I’ll send you to. Take the bike. Matt’s working on your gear.”

 

Akira caught the jack she threw at him, a cable to wire him in directly from Pidge’s own entrance rather than an authortised point. This was going to hurt. Authorised points of entry and exit were built to make the transition as easy as possible, dulling pain sensors and tricking the body into thinking this was a natural occurrence. Home built ones were always rougher, even if a genius like Pidge was behind them. But they were far harder to track.

 

“You want me to what, foil a Galra plot? I’m not sure this is a good idea, Pidge.”

 

But they weren’t listening to him. “It’s not just you. They’ll be others when I drop you there. Akira… I’m pretty sure it’s the ones who killed your brother.”

 

The world narrowed to a single point of red as the lights deemed. The ones who’d killed Shiro, caused him so much pain and taken the only member of his family left. He’d get them. He’d destroy them all, with his bare hands if he had to.

 

Pidge dropped a viral onto his lap, bringing him back to the room.

 

“Use it as a motivator to make sure they never take anyone else’s family. Do not get caught up on running head first into danger no matter the cost.”

 

Pidge looked over to where Matt was tinkering. Akira sighed, trying to calm his anger, knowing Pidge was right. Matt had barley made it out alive when Shiro and Sam had been killed. They’d all lost so much to the Galra, not just Akira. But now, now it was time to truly do something about it.

 

“Alright. Hook me up.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The impact of a fist in the teeth, spitting blood and splitting skin, one-thousand-and-one scratches dipped in salt. It hurts it burns, electricity to the spinal cord. Bones break, hearts ache. Blind but still breathing, slowly, oh so slowly._

 

* * *

 

 

When Akira opened his eyes, there was a split second of mind numbing pain before the world righted itself. That wasn’t a good sign, going back was going to be dangerous. He’d pushed his body to near his limit already with this, but if he survived, this would be worth it.

 

His bike was near, resting against a wall that shimmered irredescent. The road beneath him was a sea-green almost transparent straight line, with other structures in the same strange colour, shimmering every so often. This was an unfinished area, abandoned before it could be turned into something useful. Not great, they were almost completely untraceable, and comms would be harder. He was geared differently to compensate. His goggles had been upgraded, map already loaded and it looked like he could command weapons, which he’d take a look at soon. His gloves felt felt heavier, fused with something to give greater protection.

 

He jumped on the bike and sped off, a small red dot moving across his right eye as he traveled. The area around him changed slightly as he sped through, bike suddenly running on a silver plated bridge, background falling to the familiar purple night, faint colored stars above his head. It was then he saw two figures standing on the bridge expectantly. He slowed, and recognised once even from the distance, the slight pounding of his heart reducing for one moment, then heightening for a completely different reason.

 

Fuck. You. Stupid. Heart.

 

Leandro stood, smiling broadly next to a woman with flowing white hair, similar to his own. She wore a visor completely shielding her eyes that was gold with a blue triangle gem in the centre, from which data flew seemingly randomly to the sides. Her outfit was a dark rose colour, matching against the purple sky, a large warehouse behind them.

 

As Akira reached them, Leandro practically skipped over.

 

“Well look who made it. Right on time, Samurai.”

 

Akira looked over at the woman, who moved to stand next to Leandro.

 

“We’re glad you could come, Akira. I go by Princess Altea.”

 

Akira blinked. He knew that name, of course, everyone did. The Alteans actually created the ‘frame, shaped it to how it was today. But many had disappeared, killed by the Galra. Princess was a figure of rumour, the hero of plans foiled and new patches to the system. Judging by the steam of numbers that suddenly flew across his vision, Pidge was having a field day.

 

He nodded at her. “I don’t know too much of what we’re doing, but I’m here to help.”

 

The Princess bowed, a strange gesture, but this entire day had been odd.

 

“Thank you, Akira. We, that is myself, Leandro and our engineers, have been tracking the Galra to this area for some time. With the information you picked up, we were able to tell that something is happening tonight. They are using energy sources from three areas in the ‘frame, this one being the smallest. It’s not guarded by lifeforms; you cannot get in to this area without using a personal access code and the Galra believe they are clever enough with their traps written into the configuration of this area. We’ve already cut through those. We will collect the device they are using to transfer energy. From there we can track them, and find out more of their plans.”

 

Akira absorbed this information for a moment.

 

“So, really we don’t know much. And what we do seems suspicious?”

 

Princess inclined her head. “True. But this will be a start. A big one. They think this area is safe as it’s so remote and difficult to get to, that their traps were enough to stop any low key raiders, but they do not know who they are dealing with. We will show them.”

 

Akira nodded back. Leandro shot him finger guns and a smile, both of which he ignored.

 

“Our engineers have linked up our systems so we can communicate. I’ll lead, Akira take the middle and Leandro stay on guard.”

 

With that, not waiting for any comments, she walked towards the warehouse.

 

Akira was left with Leandro, who gestured a hand towards her.

 

“After you, kind sir.”

 

Akira had to try extremely hard to suppress his smile.

 

#~#~#

 

It was dark inside, as if he’d expected anything different. A faint hum-buzz of electric tube lights spilling a lilac sheen on the warehouse were all that accompanied them. They walked carefully, Akira scanning as much as he could as they moved forward, just in case Pidge could find anything of use. One hand remained fixed at his belt ready to draw his weapon at a moment’s notice.

 

He felt strange wandering in a group, but a part of him was oddly warmed by being a member of this hastily created team. He’d been alone for so long, partly out of choice and party due to circumstance, but that didn’t mean that company wasn’t something he wanted. Akira had just forgotten whatever codes and data you needed to be able to interact properly. The only people he’d spoken to in months had been Pidge, his roommate and…Leandro. Leandro he competed with, raced against and (attempted, badly most times) flirted with.

 

Leandro who he was currently trusting to cover his back. Something he had no arguments about.

Princess stopped suddenly, holding up her hand. Fuchsia text.

 

_Wait._

 

He heard the unmistakeable crack of Leandro removing the safety of his weapon. He braced himself with them, gripping the handle of his sword until his muscles ached.

 

She pointed without turning, and Akira saw over a flash of luminous purple, a door. A line of text across his eyes:

 

_Be on guard._ _There’s a something in there. Hunk confirms._

 

Message from Pidge received, Akira drew his weapon, the red sword flickering to full length as he snapped it downwards. Princess turned, sensing the movement and nodded in what he assumed was approval. She beamed to his feed:

 

_This is the location. I sense no movement, but there are lifeforms. The door is disarmed, my engineer is sure of that. Something isn’t right. Leo, cover us. Akira and I will go in._

 

_What?! You both can’t just –_

 

_Leo_

 

The lines stopped and Akira moved from foot to foot.

 

_Let’s go,_ the blue line from Leandro. Even without turning, Akira could sense his dislike of the plan.

 

Without really thinking, he sent wording directly to Leandro.

 

_It will be fine. You’ve got my back, right?_

 

The Princess moved slowly to the left of the door, and he moved to the right, hoping Leandro would reply before they moved in. He didn’t have to wait long.

 

_I got you buddy, don’t worry._

 

Feeling slightly better with that exchange, he looked at The Princess. She stared back and a neon pink countdown appeared.

 

_3…2…1…GO_

 

They burst through the door, Akira with his sword and The Princess producing a whip, brandished ready to strike. What they found was a large half moon area, screens flickering half formed numerical sequences from opposite them. It was covered in broken glass from tubes that had once lined the walls. The nearest to them were all smashed, golden droplets forming on shards as remnants of a strange liquid leaked to the floor.

 

In the centre was a chair and one dark crystal on a podium. It thrummed, a bass sound that thudded though Akira’s bones. It felt alive, really alive in a way that things in the ‘frame were not meant to be. It was tied here, created here but was wrong. It did not belong here.

 

It was just as The Princess had said, this thing was providing the power for whatever the Galra were planning.

 

_Scanning….no Galra. Hunk and Coran confirm. But there’s something on the right side. I can’t identify it._

 

He heard Leandro enter the room just as Pidge finished analysing. The Princess had already stepped forward, pulling a white cube from her pocket. She placed it down and white lasers blanched out from the centre, covering the pedestal and the crystal.

 

“We have three minutes. Once the removal is complete, they’ll send someone through,” she said, switching to voice now they knew it was clear.

 

“There’s something over there,” Akira said, pointing to where Pidge had mentioned. Leandro came to stand beside him, gun still on his shoulder. The Princess looked at him.

 

“We don’t have time.”

 

A stare down. The Princess’ data flashed red once, and she sighed, moving towards the cube.

 

“5 minutes.”

 

Akira nodded to her turned back and began to walk, wasting none of the precious time they had left. He flicked his sword away, but kept himself poised.

 

“Shit, Akira,” Leandro hissed and followed, his footsteps an echo.

 

It wasn’t far, and a quick look would not hurt. Anything that Pidge could not identify was a red flag to him.

 

On this side of the room, one or two of the tubes were still intact, although they were empty. Akira spun around and peered at the other side of the room, but the matching set were all broken, nothing but glass teeth. He turned back, walked forward two paces then stopped.

 

The next tube wasn’t empty.

 

He approached, as cautiously as he dared and stared through the glass.

 

It looked human. Or partly human, a torso and limbs in a humanoid shape, and a mouth open. The lights flickered and he steeled himself at the sight, Leandro jumping.

 

It looked like a human template. It was bald, uncanny with its pale purple limbs of equal length, with a mouth but no other facial features. He shuddered and moved forward to the next one. And the next. It was all the same.

 

“Clones…of each other,” Leandro muttered, voice sounding quiet and disgusted. Akira nodded, a picture being painted in his mind. A template to download whatever they wanted in, an army of monster for shaping.

 

There were three more tubes. Akira passed to the next, expecting another clone, but this one was different. It had a face, long white hair streaming across it’s shoulders. A male figure, broad chest and heavy shoulders. It’s hands were clawed and it wore a dark uniform. It’s face face had closed eyes, dark lashes falling downwards, sculpted cheek bones.

 

It wasn’t alive though. No movement in the chest, no sign of breath. It was obviously made of the same stuff as the other plain clones. He checked with Pidge, and they confirmed although the readings were weird, the body was not and had never been alive.

 

The second was similar, but a woman with a red streak in her short hair, body sculpted to have more feminine features. Again, no signs of life, and nothing Pidge could confirm that gave anything away to say otherwise.

 

Akira moved to the final tube. And inside-

 

“Sh..iro?”

 

His voice came out tiny, like he was six years old and questioning how to login into the ‘frame for the first time. Shiro was in the tube. His hair the same style, his body encased in dark trousers and a white shirt. Akira ran to the tube, hand out to touch the glass because he’d found him, his brother was here, not dead, never dead…

 

“AKIRA!”

 

Arms around his waist pulling him backwards, he thrashed out. His goggles were going haywire, messages appearing but he wasn’t looking because his brother was right there. He kicked the person behind, and heard a hiss of escaping breath as he connected, but they held on tight.

 

“Akira, listen to me, that’s not Shiro, okay?” Leandro’s voice was steady and warm in his ear, but Akira shook his head.

 

“It’s a clone, Akira. Look, come on, really look.”

 

Akira struggled a little, starring at his brother. It…it was his brother. Perhaps built slightly differently. Face thinner. Hair was now actually longer than he remembered…with a scar across his nose, and a white streak in his hair.

 

And a metal arm.

 

Akira could feel himself slipping down, but Leandro held him tightly, and seemed to be saying something soothing, but Akira couldn’t hear anymore. They’d cloned his brother, taken his body and replicated it into something else, something not alive and not dead here in a world of unreality.

 

“Akira, come on. I’ve got you, but we need to go.”

 

Akira jerked, and Leandro lost his hold on him. He spun around and stared, glad to be away from the not-Shiro but equally wanting to stay by it forever.

 

“We can’t leave him.”

 

Leandro let out a wounded noise and rushed forward surprising Akira. Leandro’s hands went to his face, cupping it gently and forcing him to look into his eyes. Just Both were blue. At some point he’d taken the gear off.

 

_Just like the dream._

 

“Akira, listen to me. It’s not your brother. This place…it’s disgusting and we’re ending it. We’re declaring war and stopping them, or at least part of them. Don’t stay and die here. Fight with us. Fight with me. Live, and fight.”

 

Akira wanted to kiss him.

 

But there was a spark behind, a flash of light and The Princess yelled for them. Leandro wasted no time, pulling on his hand and jerkily pushing him into a run. Akira found his legs and the two sprinted across the room, meeting The Princess as she sped to the door. As he ran, Akira noticed the crystal was gone and in it’s place a pulsing dark shape, sucking in light and pulsing electric.

 

They exited just in time. As they ran to the bridge, the warehouse imploded, everything collapsing in with an inhumane shriek. The three were throw to the ground in the aftershock, staring at the mess for a moment.

 

“We need to disengage. Now,” The Princess called, and then she was gone, a crack and a spark into nothing.

 

“Akira.”

 

He looked up and Leandro was there, standing as Akira hauled himself to his feet.

 

“I’ll come for you.”

 

And then, in much the same way, he was gone too.

 

* * *

 

 

_Burning like poison bile, leaking from every pore. He was choking on polluted air, loosing limbs to frostbite and just...drowning. The sea turned to petrol as he drowned in it with a metal pike through is skull._

 

_This pain was not worth it. Make it stop. Please. Just make it stop._

 

* * *

 

 

When Akira came back to himself, he was vomiting on the tiled floor of Pidge’s bathroom. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to move there, but Pidge was beside him, holding a bucket in front of his face.

 

“Akira...hey. There you are.”

 

He responded by throwing up again, but it felt like there wasn’t much left in him. Eventually the shaking in his limbs slowed, and he managed to sit up.

 

Pidge stared back at him. In the artificial light of the room devoid of their gear, he could see just how young and exhausted they were. Each line of struggle, pain and fear was written on their face, and he hated it. Just hated how much Pidge was suffering, how much they all seemed to be.

 

He shuffled forward and hugged them. Pidge grabbed him back, more forcefully than he’d imagined they could. The two clung together, both sharing in the fear and the horror of what they’d seen in the room.

 

“It wasn’t him, Akira. Leo was right. It really wasn’t him….but if there’s any chance, any chance at all that he is alive, we will find him. I swear.”

 

Akira nodded, and took a moment to just feel life between his arms before pulling away. Together, taking more time than he cared to clock, they got him to his feet and cleaned him up enough to stumble out of the room and to the door. He stole mouthwash and a spare toothbrush, cleaned his teeth and washed his face, stole a shirt from Matt. It would do.

 

“Will you be okay?” Matt asked from his position in Pidge’s usual chair.

 

Akira nodded. “I just want to sleep.”

 

“He’ll be fine. Take these before you do sleep though,” Pidge answered, giving him a set of pink small pills. He pocked them, and walked back.

 

It was daylight now, mid-morning. Their time in the ‘frame felt like a nightmare of the dark, and if it weren’t for the crippling full body hangover that clung to him Akira would have left it in his memory.

 

He stumbled back to his apartment, opening the door and spilling in. He heard the sounds of cooking, and steeled himself to walking into the small shared kitchen where Lance must be.

 

The man was facing away from him, light-brown hair all he could see. Akira hung in the doorway, not sure what to do. He felt awful, and had barely spoken to this person in the flesh. He just wanted to sleep.

 

“There you are. I was beginning to worry, Samurai.”

 

Everything stopped. Blurred, melted. Clicked into place.

 

Restart in progress. Go.

 

Lance, no _Leandro_ turned around and looked at him in the same fond way he had just a few hours ago before vanishing out. In this world he was slighter of build, hair a longer with no undercut. But his eyes were Leandros, as was his smile and his self, just all of him that Akira needed.

 

He moved forward. One, two three steps before colliding with him. Leandro huffed at the impact, but Akira ignored it, doing what he’d wanted to do back in that room.

 

He kissed him. Kissed the man who had stopped him from falling to pieces when his world dissolved and reforged itself from ashes just a few hours ago. Leandro kissed back just as ferociously, hands tugging him closer, keeping them molded together.

 

He tasted like liquid starburst. All fire and ignition, bright as molten flame in the dusk-skies.

 

He pulled back, leaning bodily into Leandro, so exhausted.

 

“Hard crash. We need to get you to sleep. Come on, my love.”

 

Akira filed that endearment away to deal with later. He pulled out the pills Pidge had given him, swallowing them down dry before it became too much to recall.

 

“We started a war. With the Galra. They might have Shiro.”

 

Leandro was practically carrying him at this point. Akira managed to get onto the bed, and pulled Leandro down with him, who just laughed and tugged him close.

 

“We did. And they might. If they do, I’ll help you save him.”

 

Akira snuggled closer. It may have been the drugs, the pain both physical and mental from the day, but he didn’t feel like this was too much for them. It felt inevitable, that they had been leading to now for a long time, in their own delightful way.

 

“Are you staying?”

 

Leandro sighed into his hair.

 

“If you ask me to, I pretty sure I’d give you anything.”

 

Akira smiled, feeling like infinite space.

 

“Then stay, and fight with me.”

 

“Your wish is my command.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rush of the artificial strobe lighting accompanied him as he sailed past buildings and other traffic. His hair blew back and the arms around his waist tightened as they flew together on the bike into the ever approaching dusk. Leandro was warm and real, on his bike and at his back.

 

There was much to do, much at stake now that they’d place themselves in the field against the Galra. Akira hadn’t ever pictured himself as the type of person who would joining a team, fighting the good fight and suiting up. But here he was.

 

So for tonight, he’d ride. They’d ride. Off to the horizon, as far and as fast as he could take them, just for a while.

 

Despite the fact they were linked by comms, and the wind and the strain it would cause on his voice, Leandro still decided to lean into him and scream in his ear.

 

“Is that all you’ve got?”

 

And Akira smiled, because who was he to resist a challenge? He flipped the code and they transformed, a thrilling sequence that made his blood burn, ever more so with Leandro there, holding on to him, just him, as they righted. The bike changed into the racer, and airborne he lunged them forward, Leandro’s laughter echoing like a love song into the night as they raced to the future.

 


	20. Day 21: Crossover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly late posting with this one! Today we have a crossover with My Hero Academia. 
> 
> You don't need to know much about the anime/manga to read this, so even if you don't know it, this should still be understandable (I hope). 
> 
> This and the TV show prompt made me realise I am such anime trash as that's 90% of what I watch. Sigh. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your support with these stories, and hope you enjoy :)

The clock read 1.32AM, and Lance stared intermittently between his phone and TV screens, willing news to arrive. The headline continued to roll, random interviews with bystanders from the warehouse explosion running as viewers, probably just like him, waited with baited breath for information. 

Lance scrolled back through his messages, as if this would make something happen. A series of unread messages to Allura, becoming increasingly frantic as time wore on. The same to Shiro, although a few less. And then finally, his messages to Keith. He scrolled back through the evening, past his questions, past the worry to the last one he’d received. 

_ We can talk about this when I get home. Shift ends at 8. _

That was it. The last thing his boyfriend had said to him. Perhaps the last thing he would ever say to him, and that was by text. This morning, they’d had a…disagreement. Lance wouldn’t call it an argument, wouldn’t go that far. The two of them were stubborn and constantly butting heads, but this had been a bit more than that, but a bit less than anything that would leave them needing to nurse wounds after. 

“Keith, seriously, do you need to work this many shifts? You’re never here! This was meant to be our day off together.” 

Keith had pulled on the purple and black suit, collecting his gear as Lance trailed after him, still in his pajamas. 

“We’ve talked about this, Lance. The agency is understaffed, Kolivan needs all the help he can get. It’s just for a little while.”

“Yeah, you said that two months ago! Nothing’s changing!”

“Lance…” Keith trailed off with a sigh, and Lance could see the exhaustion, the dark circles framing his eyes, the way his body hung like it wasn’t really connected. Lance wanted to take him into his arms, give him whatever he needed to make it easier. But he was angry, hurt that the only quality time they were due to have together had been taken away from him. 

“It’s like you don’t even want to spend time with me.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was the words themselves or the bitter tone, but this got Keith to stop. He stared at Lance incredulously. 

“Are you serious? Are you actually serious?” 

“Yes!” Lance yelled, frustration bubbling over, “You miss out on everything, all my plans for us, every date night and run off whenever they call.” 

“It’s my job, Lance. It’s yours too!” 

“Yeah well, I know when things are more important than missions.” 

That was going too far, he knew it before he’d even said it. Keith didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but that small flicker of his face, the movement in his eyes signalled the blow had hit home. He grabbed his bag and turned away. 

“See you later.”

And that was it, the last conversation they’d had. Lance had sulked, sending a few miserable messages to Hunk, (whose advice was, of course, talk to him properly. Stupid, practical best friend) and done a few chores. He’d caved about lunchtime, apologising for lashing out and received the last message in return.

At 7.30ish, the Hero News had reported the warehouse hostage situation. Lance knew that area, it was near The Blade Agency’s headquarters, so there was no doubt Keith would be involved. He’d resigned himself to not having that conversation this evening, knowing that after an incident there was no way he’d get home on time. 

It wasn’t long after when things turned nasty. The events were still not confirmed, but something in the warehouse had exploded, and more Villains appeared. Two neighbouring buildings collapsed, and the death toll was still unknown. Backup had been called, and Lance watched the news in shock, seeing the familiar lightening quirk split open the sky, but not sign of Keith himself. He had seen Allura on screen, rescuing three hostages and running straight back in. But she too hadn’t replied for hours. 

He’d called Hunk in a panic at 9.30PM when the news had nothing new to tell them, the cameras being told to leave for their own safety. At 10.10PM he’d cried on the bathroom floor, and called his mama shortly afterward to stave off a panic attack. By 11PM he’d cried all he could, thrown up once and just lay down, becoming slowly numb to everything except the glow of the screens. 

Something bad must have happened. To go this long with no word… Lance couldn’t stop his mind from forming haunting, terrible ideas of Keith’s fate. Their work was dangerous, both of them knew it. But Keith had never been gravely hurt, in all the years they’d known each other his recklessness had usually paid off in his favour. Lance was normally the one who had broken limbs or woke up in a hospital bed. 

Apparently there was only so long ones luck would hold. 

Lance jolted as the phone in his hand started to ring. He stared at it in shock for a second, Allura’s name flashing across the screen, wondering if he was hallucinating. Suddenly, everything kicked in, and he fumbled with the device for a second before managing to answer. 

“Allura? Hello?”

“Lance! Lance, I’m so sorry I didn’t reply. I didn’t have my phone when I went out.”

There was a hum of noise in the background, voices talking, shouting. Her words sounded clear and frantic though, truly apologetic. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

A small laugh down the line. “I’m okay, Lance. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t heal. I’m St Anne’s hospital, Keith is here.” 

A blockage formed in Lance’s throat, everything bottle-stopped, and his body began to shake. 

“Is he…is.”

“Lance, Lance it’s okay. He was hurt, quite badly. But he’s awake and out of danger. It took me a while to track him down. The nurses were just about to call you, they just finished healing him. I said I’d do it instead.” 

Lance had started crying somewhere around ‘it’s okay’ so was able to manage a sob in reply to Allura's words. Allura made comforting sounds down the phone as Lance slowly calmed, and stood from the bed. 

“I’ll be there in ten,” he said, pulling on his shoes. 

“See you at the entrance. Be careful on your way, don’t panic. Keith is fine, remember that.” 

He smiled then hung up. He took a deep breath, picked up his phone, wallet and keys before making his way to the balcony. Lance took a moment to clock the wind, quirk rising in his veins, then hauled himself off the balcony. 

He began to glide, quirk flaring into action as he directed himself towards the hospital. His quirk allowed him to control and manipulate air. In his hero costume and gear he could properly fly, but today just cutting out some of the journey by gliding was enough. He hit the floor and ran the rest of the way, thankful the traffic was sparse at this time of the morning. 

Allura, as promised, was awaiting him in reception. He white costume was stained with the remnants of both blood and grime, a nasty scrape on her face still red-raw, and her arm bandaged. Lance felt his eyes well up and he hugged her gently. 

“I thought you said you were okay.”

Allura sighed and hugged him close in return. “I am, I promise. It looks worse than it is.” 

“Have you called Lotor?” 

Allura hesitated then shook her head. “He’s in Europe, I didn’t want to worry him-“

“Call. Seriously, don’t let him find out by watching the TV.” 

Allura’s face fell and she gripped Lance’s hand before nodding in agreement. 

“Okay. Come on, he’s through here.”

Allura led him through to the wards, Lance’s heard pounding as they ventured further and further in. Finally, they reached Keith’s room and were met with Shiro and a doctor talking outside. On seeing him, Shiro immediately excused himself to pull Lance into a fierce hug. Lance gripped him back just as tightly. 

“He’s doing okay, Lance. The doctor was just confirming his condition.” 

Lance glanced back to the doctor who smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, he will be fine. He suffered some internal bleeding, and a broken leg. He was unconscious for a while so we’ll be observing him tonight while the healing quirks do their job. But he should be fine to be released tomorrow. He’ll need a lot of rest though.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure he rests,” Lance stated, already mentally planning on how much he was going to take care of Keith. Keith would go insane after two minutes of Lance’s planned pampering, but tough luck. After this, he’d have to deal with it. 

“You can see him,” The doctor said, and Shiro clapped him on the back as he walked to the door. 

Lance wasn’t sure what to expect as he entered, so braced himself for the worst. But as soon as he opened the door, Keith’s eyes were all he could see. 

“Lance…” A small, shaky call of his name and Lance was skidding to the bed. Keith was slightly propped up, hooked into a machine by a series of wires, left leg encased in bright blue foam type substance. Lance navigated past all the wires to bring his forehead to Keith’s. 

“Keith…Keith, you’re alive,” he muttered, words and thoughts just spilling out at his relief and love for this man rattled through him. 

Keith signed heavily, whole body seeming to relax into Lance’s touch. 

“You’re here,” Keith replied, voice still so small. 

“I am. I’m not going anywhere,” Lance replied, then kissed him. Just a touch of lips to Keith’s as soft as he could make it. He followed with another, and another, Keith matching him until Keith’s hands shakily gripped at his jacket, pulling him in for a longer, wetter kiss. 

Lance peeled away with a laugh after a moment. 

“Don’t think that’s going to help you heal.” 

“We should try again and see,” Keith replied, tipping his head up. Lance laughed, actually laughed because it was so good to hear that dry tone that was so incredibly Keith. But his smile died as he took in the faint scratches on Keith’s face, the cut on his forehead neatly stitched up. 

“How you doing, Samurai?” 

Keith closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. 

“It was…bad. Two hostages died. We got all of them, one way or another but..” Keith trailed off and inhaled deeply, chest rattling and face scrunching up. 

“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” Lance muttered, and that was all it took for Keith to break. Lance adjusted himself so he could join Keith in bed as carefully as he could, and Keith cried into his chest, huge aching sobs that shook his whole body. Lance held him through it, kissing his head and murmuring reassurances as best he could. 

Slowly, Keith’s sobs died down and he just lay there, hand scrunched up in Lance’s shirt, resting just over his heart. 

“I’m so sorry about this morning. I couldn’t…couldn’t believe it might have been the last time I spoke to you.” 

Lance cut himself off before he could revisit those emotions, an Keith lifted his head. He used his hand to turn Lance to him, kissing him softly. 

“Doesn’t matter. It’s okay.”

“I love you. That’s what I wished I said. I love you, so much. You have no idea.” 

He could feel Keith smile against him as he received another kiss. 

“I think  I have an idea. I love you too, you know.” 

Lance signed, and nuzzled the top of Keith’s head. “I’m gonna pamper you so much, you know. A week of bed rest at least after this.” 

Keith snorted, and Lance could see his eyes dropping. He pulled him closely, moving his hands to card through Keith’s hair, a motion that always relaxed him. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything else.” Keith managed as Lance chuckled. 

“Love you…”Keith whispered, his eyes closing, body falling lax against Lance. Lance smiled to himself and gave thanks to every power in this universe that Keith was safe, lying here in his arms. 

“Love you too, Keith.” He replied to his sleeping boyfriend. 

They’d live to fight another day.  


	21. Day 22: High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all your support! 
> 
> This one is a little self indulgent. I channeled my own bi realisation in high school as the focus for this theme, so it's inspired by that. Props to my then girlfriend for all her patience at the time haha. 
> 
> There is under-aged drinking in this chapter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

It was hot, hotter than it should be in September as Lance meandered around the crowd in the too small kitchen. His limbs slithered, a strange haze at the edges of his vision. It was loud here, loud everywhere and Lance tripped his way outside, and a blast of cold air stung his senses.

 

He was definitely drunk. It wasn’t the first time, but it was all still relatively new a sensation that each time there seemed to be a moment of awed realisation when his mind went I. AM. WASTED. As if the sickly-sweet drinks he’d been downing all evening hadn’t been leading to this moment.

 

Most of his class were here, and he sent finger guns towards two girls from his history class who were sitting on a wall outside. Both giggled, one whispering to the other and Lance smiled, full of bravado and vodka as he made his way further into the garden. The girls had set his heart racing and his mind at ease because it was how it was meant to be.

 

He almost tripped over Pidge where they were slumped on the floor, staring up at the midnight-blue sky.

 

“Pidgey! Don’t stay like that you’re too small”

 

Pidge kicked him in response. His own fault for using the s word, so he kicked back just as readily.

 

“Guyyss, come on, don’t do that,” Hunk appeared as if by magic and that was the best so Lance fell into him for a hug.

 

“Whoa… okay how much have you had?”

 

Lance pouted as Hunk inspected his drink. Pidge was up in a flash and grabbed the cup, taking a sip. They grimaced, gagging towards the grass.

 

“Urg, Lance what is this it’s so sweet! And also bitter, how is that possible?”

 

Despite their words Pidge took another swig and Lance lunged for the drink as they did so. Hunk signed and stepped between them, pulling the drink out of Pidge’s hands and away from both of them.

 

“No more. It’s gone midnight and I need to drive us back soon. I have work in the morning.  If either of you throw up in my car again, I’m making you clean it.”

 

Both Lance and Pidge groaned, Lance’s stomach sloshing at the notion of being sick. Not good. It was not that late but he does need a ride back and they do need to leave here by 1am.

 

“Hunk, could I get a ride? I’m sort of done here.”

 

A new voice from out of the dark, like something from either Lance’s dreams or nightmares. Keith was there, materialised like a ninja, all stupid bracelets and chipped nail polish and… _ oh my his hair is in a tiny ponytail. _

 

Lance flushed. It was too hot again, why suddenly so hot? Too much vodka. And Schnapps. And Keith, wait no, this had nothing to do with Keith.

 

“Sure, of course man! You’re on the way.”

 

Hunk was smiling, Keith was smiling, and Pidge was looking at Lance because they had mind reading super powers and just know what happened at the last party, even though they weren’t there. What seemed to be burrowing into Lance’s brain lately, things that made no sense and just weren’t him.

 

“Are you going to throw up? Lance?”

 

Oh. He was making that kinda face. Helpful.

 

“What?! No, I’m just…thinking of all the lovely ladies I need to say goodbye to!”

 

And with that he stole back his drink and marched back inside, legs unsteady. The girls were gone but Lance faded back into the hum of the party, putting the drink down on the kitchen counter and turning into the front room where some sort of impromptu dance off has started.

Awesome. That was definitely awesome.

 

“Lance!” Allura shrieked his name over the music and yesss, best dance partner. Lance grabbed her outstretched hand and then they were moving, both good at this, their rhythm and time matching. Lance twirled her, spun her around until she giggled.

 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked, as they started jumping up and down to some rock song Lance recognised but didn’t know the name of. Keith would know though. Would probably roll his eyes and say it’s not proper music, with his stupid specific tastes. Just because he plays guitar, and is in a band and…

 

Okay no more Keith, what the hell!

 

“Urggg his parents wouldn’t let him come, I mean we’re 18 soon how is this a thing?” she asked gesturing wildly.

 

“Really? Are they that bad.”

 

Allura stopped dancing for a second, arms paused half way up. In the half light her face did something he couldn’t decipher but he feels the sadness and concern. “Yeah…they are.”

 

He hugged her quickly, crushing her to him and she hugged just as hard back. He pulled away and she looked just as miserable and if there’s one thing Lance can’t stand, it’s a miserable Allura.

 

“Come on, lets’ dance!” he called, and spun her again, until she was laughing and singing along with the next song that blasts from the speakers. He was a little dizzy, a little sick and it felt fantastic, like everything is just how its mean to be, so fast and so rushed.

 

He was pulled back down to earth by a light, tentative tug to his waist. He turned to see Keith, right there, all pretty hair spilling out, slowly pulling Lance along. He was talking but Lance wasn’t really focusing on it, just on the hands tracing along his waist, now one on his arm and the fact that he was just materialising in front of Lance all the time tonight.

 

“Lance, come on, the car is running. We need to go.”

 

Lance allowed himself to be led forward, Keith tugging on his hand, the warmth making him smile. He liked this, liked the feel of their hands together and remembered why this always seemed to happen lately. Why he thought so often about Keith when his mind wanders, why he craved his attention, competed and yelled to get noticed. He doesn’t remember why he questions it later, this felt beyond right, perfect if such a thing was possible.

 

Keith turned back near the doorway, Lance stumbling into him. He was close, and still holding Lance’s hand so it seemed natural to lean in and kiss him.

 

Lance was off balance; he still had the sugar and alcohol running through his veins so it was a little shakier than he’d liked, but his lips pressed against Keith’s and felt himself sigh with the familiar feeling. Keith gripped his hand, giving a small kiss in return then pulled away.

 

“No, come on, not while you’re drunk. I said we weren’t doing that again, it was a mistake last time.”

 

And with that he pulled Lance forward with more strength, dragging him around people dancing and chatting in the hallway. Lance suddenly wanted to cry, the word ‘mistake’ floating around his head, blaring like a siren.

 

It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed Keith. It was the almost third, but in between had been full of weird looks and almost flirting that was as confusing as it was exhilarating. The first kiss had been at another party, around a month ago. He’d know Keith his whole school life; they’d been rivals in classes, gotten into fights and competed in sporting events since day one. It had only been in the last two years, as classes changed and everyone grew and morphed as they approached their final school years, they’d slowly started to become friends.

 

Then Lance had kissed him, sitting on a kitchen counter top because it just seemed right. Keith had kissed him right back, moving closer and he was the second person Lance had ever kissed but it felt like that Disney moment, that fireworks and fanfare spectacle.

 

Except of course they’d both tasted or cheap vodka and coke, sat in dingey kitchen with classmates who cat called them back to reality.

 

Keith had grabbed him at school that Monday, apologised for kissing him after drinking so much.  Lance had gone bright red and apologised back but quickly dismissed himself before they could talk more. Because…well it was weird. Lance liked girls, had always liked girls, had posters of girls in his room and crushes on female celebrities. Kissing Keith didn’t fit that, and the fact that he liked kissing Keith was just confusing the issue further.

 

Because it had to be one or the other, right? He still liked girls but couldn’t deny he liked Keith as well. After the awkward conversation things had continued to progress oddly. He’d know when Keith was looking at him, meeting his eyes more often than before. He felt the need to challenge everything Keith ever said, make him focus on him, notice and reply to whatever Lance was saying or doing.

 

Then he’d almost kissed him. Not in a drunken heightened state but on the way home, when they’d stopped to wait for Hunk and Keith was just there, hair ruffled, looking tired but content with his guitar slung over his shoulder, shirt untucked and doing nothing but existing. He’d said something, Lance couldn’t remember what but it made Lance lean in, tuck a piece of wayward hair behind his ear and…

 

Then he realised what he’d done and snapped back, stuttering and waving his arms around as if he could defuse whatever was happening between them by swatting it away. Fast forward, and now here he was, two drunken kisses and one almost kiss and Keith had called it all a mistake.

 

Alcohol was officially awful because Lance did start to cry then, wiping his eyes as Keith pulled him out of the house, but it wasn’t doing much good. He just didn’t understand what was happening, in his own head and right in front of him. It felt like it should be simple, but it was just a rush of feelings in so many directions and he had no idea how to begin sorting through the hurt, confusion, excitement and worry to make anything work again.

 

“Hey, Lance what took…oh my god what happened, who do I need to kill!”

 

Pidge’s enraged shriek caused Lance to cry harder, which in turn made Keith spin and face him. Lance managed to see through his tears a look of almost horror cross his face as he took in the sight of Lance crying.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

“You…I’m not a mistake!” Lance sounded like he was whining through the sobs which was a hideous noise and  _ he was never drinking again _ these emotions just pushed their way out when he was drunk.

 

Keith made an odd sound in his throat and pulled Lance tentatively closer into a loose hug. His hand came to the back of Lance’s head, stroking through the short hairs there, which was far more comforting than Lance would have imagined.

 

“That’s not what I meant… damn it you’re too drunk for this. We’ll talk tomorrow, come on Lance.”

 

Keith managed to calm him down slightly, still taking his hand and leading him to the car. He vaguely recalled Pidge questioning Keith fiercely until Hunk snapped at them both, but he was mostly dozing on Keith extremely bony shoulder for the remainder of the ride home.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Lance awakened with a pounding head, dry mouth and aching limbs, tiny little paper cuts littering his fingers. Hunk dropped him home on his way to work at the unseemly hour of 8am, when he stumbled through the door and almost vomited at the smell of his mum cooking breakfast. 

 

He managed a 2 hour nap before his little sister was hammering on his door, and he grudgingly stumbled into the shower. He felt more human after that, a layer of hangover scraped from his skin. By the time he checked his phone, he had  a series of messages from the group chat with Hunk and Pidge, arranging a coffee meet up during Hunk’s lunch break. 

 

Then there was another more ominous message:

 

_ We should talk. I finish work at 3, meet me then? _

 

Lance might be hungover, but he’s wasn’t suffering from memory loss, and the embarrassment of crying into Keith flooded his senses. With it returned the overwhelming sense of confusion and worry that had been a constant for so long. 

 

What did he feel? What did he like? Lance honestly didn’t know. It was clear he liked Keith, but what did that mean in a wider sense? What did he want other than liking Keith? 

 

The final one seemed more manageable. If he pushed past the insecurity and pressure of what he felt he was meant to or ought to be and feel, he knew that he liked the moments they’d had. Could see himself taking Keith’s hand, could picture him kissing his cheek and knew what it was like to kiss him in a more deep, desperate way. It felt right in all the ways it was meant to, so that meant it  _ was _ right even if it felt strange. 

 

But it still filled him with uncertainty, one that he carried with him as he met up with his friends. Allura was also there, dark sunglasses plastered to her face, cradling a coffee like it held her life essence. 

 

“What time did you leave?” he asked with a laugh. 

 

Allura groaned. “4am. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

 

Pidge laughed, looking just as perky as usual. Lance was convinced they aren’t human. 

 

“How are you doing buddy? You looked rough when I dropped you home this morning,” Hunk said with a laugh. 

 

Lance looked at them, at the three people in the world he trusted the most and thought he was lucky, so lucky to have such great friends. Wondered what he would do without them, if anything would ever cause them to vanish and if he’d be able to take it if it did. 

 

“Lance?” 

 

He looked up and realised he was almost crying again, and the three had drawn closer, expressions ranging from concern to pure panic. 

 

“I…” he swallowed hard once. 

 

“I like Keith. I really like him. Um.. I’m meeting him to talk about things. Later.” 

 

He felt like the air had been crushed out of the universe and he was drowning on nothing in the quiet that followed. Didn’t know if this is the end of everything he’d ever known and it changed nothing, absolutely nothing to voice it out loud because it was all still just as perplexedly twisted inside. 

 

Allura squealed. He looked up and she was practically vibrating, the most amazing smile on her face, as if she’d received a perfect wish. 

 

“That’s so awesome, ahhhh he’s so so into you Lance it’s ridiculous! Honestly he’s so cute, he thinks he’s so subtle and broody but he just melts in your direction ahhh!” She dissolved into more squealing and it was hard for Lance to see suddenly. 

 

Because Allura just reacted to the prospect of him talking to someone he liked. It didn’t matter that he’d never mentioned boys before, she’d just freaked out anyway, like it was normal. Like everything was just as it should be and it wasn’t something that choked his insides. 

 

“Buddy, hey. What’s up?” 

 

Lance wiped the few tears that had collected in his eyes before managing a laugh. 

 

“You guys.. Don’t mind?” 

 

“I mean, Keith is cooler than you, and we’ve somehow stuck with you for this long so no, have my stamp of approval,” Pidge answered dryly, but their smile was true and warming. 

 

“Lance.” he looked up as Hunk reached out to grasp his arm. “Were you really worried we would mind if you dated a guy?” 

 

Allura mimicked Hunk but takes his opposing hand, squeezing it tightly. 

 

“I...I’m not sure it all doesn’t make sense. I like Keith. I really really like Keith, so much. And I like girls. In general, not a girl right now. It’s. They’re different.” 

 

“But it doesn’t mean it isn't real or isn’t right. You don’t have to fit in a box someone else made, Lance. You can like girls and boys. Or just Keith. Or no one. And we’d still be here.” 

 

Allura’s voice was calm and steady, and Lance thought he was going to cry again. There was a bump against his shoulder as Pidge dragged their chair next to his. 

 

“You’re stuck with us, you and your gross feelings. For girls and Keith. Both are allowed. And equally gross to me,” Pidge added and Lance wanted to hug them. He sighed. 

 

“I just...I don’t know what it means. Or what I should call myself? Or feel.” 

 

“Don’t get too hung up on names right now. You can figure out where you want to put yourself later,” Allura encouraged, still gripping his hand lightly. 

 

“Lance, tell me do you like Keith,” Hunk asked. 

 

Lance nodded, absolutely sure on that one. “I do. Definitely.” 

 

Hunk grinned, wide and accepting and just the same as he’d smiled yesterday. 

 

“Then for now, that’s all you need to know.” 

 

* * *

 

At 3.03pm Lance stood at the garage, watching as Keith approached. He was more nervous than he’d been in a long time, hands flexing and twitching as Keith walked closer.

 

“Hey! How was work.” 

 

Lance’s voice was loud, and Keith winced slightly. Lance could feel himself beginning to sweat; this is starting out swimmingly. Keith smiled though, and it made Lance’s nerves ease just enough to give him hope for another try. 

 

“Was fine. Kinda tired though.” 

 

Lance groaned and shook his head at the memories of earlier in the day. 

 

“I knooww, I was so hungover, my siblings were worse than usual.” 

 

Keith guided them towards the park nearby as they fell into slightly uneasy small talk; Lance blabbering too fast to fill the silence, and Keith only occasionally responding. They reached a bench after a few minutes, and Keith stopped, motioning Lance to sit. 

 

Lance inhaled, slowly taking a seat, letting the afternoon air settle on his skin, trying to radiate calm he did not feel. Keith sat next to him, his leg bouncing a few times before settling. 

 

“Lance… I wanted to just talk, I guess about last night. And before. I should have done this earlier, I guess.” Keith looked away and Lance hated it, wanted his attention back again. He hated how unsure they both seemed in each others presence, the usual ease evaporating in the tension. 

 

“When I said it was a mistake, I meant kissing when we were drunk. We shouldn’t be doing that, shouldn’t have done that. It just makes things messier, causes… problems. Like it has. I was more sober last night, I should have done something. I’m sorry, I really am.” 

 

“No!” Lance said, too loudly, startling a few birds nearby. Keith looked up in alarm and Lance wanted to scream at himself. Why did he lose volume control when he panicked?

 

“I’m the one who launched myself at you, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… didn’t realise at the time. I should have had more control.” 

 

Lance looked at his hands. Clenched them once, thought of his friends, thought of what they said and just decided to trust what feelings he knew were strong. 

 

“I haven’t dealt with this well. It’s really unfair to you, and I hope you’ll hear me out.” 

 

He looked up, pausing as Keith nodded, his face devoid of much. Lance’s exhale shook, and he turned back to his hands. 

 

“I like you. All the time, not just when I’m drunk. I like you at school, when you’re playing in the band, when we hang out and watch movies. It’s… not something I was expecting. To have these feelings. I thought I knew myself. Turns out I don’t. But I know, I’m certain I like you, and I’ve just managed those feeling so badly, and I’m sorry. It’s a mess because of me.” 

 

He sneaked a look up at Keith, and wasn’t prepared for the smile, the small clear smile on his face. It widened slightly when their eyes meet and there was hope trickling back in, ever so softly. 

 

“I like you too. A lot, Lance. I really do. I didn’t think you’d feel the same.” 

 

Lance smiled, the trickle of hope turning into an explosion inside. “Well, I do. Just have to be a bit dramatic about it.”

 

He tried to laugh but it was a bit hollow, and Keith’s eyes softened. He leaned forward, gently pushing their heads together, and moved his hands to Lance’s cheek. Lance felt his breathing stutter because this was good, so very very wonderful and the worry melted to the back burner. 

 

“Believe me, I understand a little. Not the same, but a little. We can take our time though. I mean, if that’s what you want.” He moved to draw away again, but Lance grabbed his hand. 

 

“Ah ah ah, not so fast Mullet, not when I’ve got you where I want you.” 

 

And then was back, just flipped right back into place and Lance knew then this is what it was leading to, the direction he’d been subtly pushing them towards even when he didn’t know it. 

 

“Who says this isn’t where I wanted you, huh? I invited you here,” Keith said right back, fierce and beautiful. 

 

“And now I’m keeping us here, so I win.”

 

“And what do you win?” Keith asked and Lance knew that was invitation like no other so went in for the kiss. 

 

They met, and was the same but better. More coordination and awareness in Lance’s synapses, fire and fizzing, all the fanfare returning. Keith actually shivered when the kiss deepened and it was like victory, anything to make Keith feel and move closer, wanting them to touch as much as they could.

 

Lance realised with that thought that they were in public and quickly slowed down. 

 

They had to part, but Lance leaned his head on Keith’s shoulder, just like he’d done the night before. 

 

“You’re so bony,” he complained, poking at Keith’s ribs. Keith slapped his hand away and Lance wonders if he’s ticklish, endeavours to find out another time. 

 

“Next time, you can snuggle me,” he grumbled, and felt Keith laugh. 

 

“Okay.” 

 

Lance smiled at the soft reply, pulling Keith’s had up to kiss his knuckles. 

 

“Are we..um. Together?” 

 

Keith was deliberately not looking at him, so Lance straightened up to try and meet his eyes. 

 

“Do you want that?” Lance asked. Keith nodded, just once and Lance ducked his head to meet Keith’s eyes. 

 

“Me too. I do, just...slowly?” he asked, and Keith sat straighter again. 

 

“Of course. I said so, didn’t I?” 

 

Lance smiled, wide and true, and dragged Keith to curl up against his side, which he did with minimal grumbling. Lance breathed in the scent of Keith and reveled in the large overwhelming part of him that is so happy in this moment, leaping from roofs and screaming that Keith Kogane is his boyfriend. 

 

But he would have to deal with the smaller part. The one that worried what this all meant, who he now was with this new realisation of himself. He needed to tell his mum, wanted to tell her soon but didn’t have the words yet. Was afraid of how his older brother and father might be, how his swim team and the kids in his class might take it. He knew he shouldn’t care, eventually won’t care but was afraid of the new parts that were undeniably him but made him that much more different. He was embracing them, slowly. Would do it, but carefully. One step at a time.

 

But he had three great friends who were cheering from the side lines and Keith, his boyfriend Keith, who would be there alongside. He’d make it. He would. 

  
  
  



	22. Day 23: TV Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and support! It's wonderful to have so many of you reading these prompts. 
> 
> Embracing my Britishness by picking Dr Who as the TV show for this one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading! :)

“So he just left you, huh?” Pidge asked, sipping their coffee and staring back at Keith. 

 

Keith nodded, looking angrily down at his cooling drink, which he’d barely even touched. 

 

“Yeah. Said I could say hi to Shiro and he’d be right behind. I turn around and the stupid machine is taking off again. Didn’t even say goodbye. I hate him.” 

 

Pidge’s face softened in sympathy. “No, you don’t”

 

He didn’t. That was the problem. He’d fallen in love with a stupid, annoying, brave and beautiful time travelling alien who had stuck him back on earth without a word. Keith clenched his fist under the table. 

 

It had been three weeks. Three weeks of slow, predictable life in one place and one time. No saving planets, chasing space bandits and yelling at The Doctor to learn how to fly properly. Just him, trying to carve a life together but half wishing today would be the day he’d be released again. 

 

Keith had been gone for almost a year earth time but it felt like so much longer. His job was long gone, his apartment rented to someone else, and the vague friend’s he’d had (aside from Pidge) a distant memory. He was staying in Shiro and Adam’s spare room, barely sleeping and wondering what he’d done wrong. 

 

Or well, trying to forget what he’d done. 

 

He and Pidge had found The Doctor. Keith had been obsessed with conspiracy theories all their lives, and together they’d found evidence of something alien. Keith still wasn't sure what either of them had planned on doing, two newly graduated college student rocking up with just Pidge’s tech junk and Keith’s Swiss-army knife. 

 

What they’d found was a man and a phone box. A man with a blinding smile and a sonic sniper rifle who was thousands of years old but looked no older than Keith. The three of them saved Earth that night, and Keith would go on to save countless galaxies in different realities with his new alien team mate. 

 

Now he was getting rejected from call centres and fast food restaurants. 

 

It had been their last stop after taking on a Galra station, the enemy who seemed to always be at the peripheral of every disaster Keith and The Doctor found themselves in. Keith had been stabbed, not fatally, just in the shoulder, but it hurt like hell and oozed a strange, yellow liquid. He’d passed out mid battle and awoken in a hospital bed. 

 

The Doctor was sitting by his bedside as he opened his eyes. 

 

“Hey there, Samurai. Can’t resist jumping into the fray, eh?” 

 

Keith had sat up, impressed at how much better he felt considering the last thing he remembered was agony. 

 

“Where are we?” 

 

The Doctor turned his blue eyes onto him. Sad, old eyes that stood out in the young and wild face. Keith loved those eyes. 

 

“Altean hospital. Best healers in the galaxy. You should be good to go, if you’re ready?” 

 

Keith was ready, and The Doctor waited as he stood, finding his red and white jacket hooked neatly on a chair. 

 

“Yes, I saved it for you. Can’t be you without that thing, right?” he said with a smirk. Keith rolled his eyes, but was silently so thankful his favourite jacket was still here. He didn’t exactly miss earth, but having something that reminded him of home helped. 

 

They left the hospital, The Doctor speaking to three different alien women on the way, all smiles and trademark finger guns. Keith tried not to feel jealous. As they walked out, trudging over the rough terrain back to the TARDIS, the sun was setting over the hills, the view so spectacular it made Keith pause. The world turned from bright to dim gold, colours muting into hues of orange and fawn; a calming palette that made his mind slow. 

 

“Pretty good, right?” 

 

The Doctor was right beside him, so close their arms brushed. Almost the same height, he was so human yet so not but Keith loved the ways he contradicted everything around him. They watched the sunset, and as it dipped beneath the final outcrop, Keith turned and kissed him. 

 

It was short, faint and unexpected. Keith was rash and prone to acting on impulse but even he surprised himself with this. 

 

He noticed very quickly that The Doctor did not respond. When Keith pulled away, panic raced through him, but before Keith could say anything The Doctor jumped back, arm coming to awkwardly play with the back of his hair. 

 

“W-we should get back! Hey, how about a visit to earth, it’s been a while since you’ve seen Shiro, right? Pretty sure I can get you back almost a week after you left?” 

 

He’d blushed as he’d turned, that Keith was sure about, but the rejection was obvious. He signed, hoping to switch back to normal, praying it would go back to normal. 

 

“Bet you’re at least a month out.”

 

It worked, or seemed to. The Doctor swung around, edges of his hoodie flying, hands going to his hips. 

 

“What! I’ll have you know I am an expert at flying us back through time. They used to call me the tailor because I could thread the needle” 

 

They were a year from when he left, rather than a week. The Doctor has pouted. Then left Keith and vanished, so really the rest didn’t matter. 

 

“It’s been so long, Pidge. He’s not coming back.” 

 

Pidge offered him a sad smile. “It has, but who knows. He might come back tomorrow, might come back in ten years wondering why you look so different.” 

 

Keith managed to laugh at that because yes, that is exactly what would happen. 

 

“But you can’t put your life on hold just waiting for him. You’ve got to find something else to hope for, something else to aim for. Because yeah, he may not come back.” 

 

It was what Keith had been avoiding thinking about, what Shiro didn’t want to say. But Pidge was always better at facing reality, never one to mince their words. 

 

“I guess. I just don’t really know what to do after all that. Travelling through time and space aren’t exactly transferable skills.” 

 

Pidge snorted. “True, but you’re smart Keith, and resourceful. You’ll get there.” 

 

He nodded at Pidge, changing topics smoothly by asking how their latest robotics project was going. Because otherwise he’d have to think about a future without him. 

 

* * *

 

Keith made dinner that night, revelling in the familiarity of a task he was still able to do. Adam and Shiro were slightly stunned when they came home to find food already made, and Keith felt a pang of guilt that he’d spent the past few weeks doing very little. 

 

He searched for a few jobs, asked Adam and Shiro for advice and tried to plan out his next steps. But it all felt like a game, as if he were passing time before reality would start back up. His reality was now so fantastical that everything else was mundane in comparison. 

 

Keith stared at the stars as they appeared, dimmed by the garish bright of the city. 

 

_ Where are you now? Are you okay? Do you miss me? Or are you happier without a human to look after?  _

 

Keith tried to shake away his thoughts, closing down his computer before getting into bed. He didn’t think he’d sleep, was sure his mind would prevent him from getting any rest. Except he must have done as he woke with a start when his lamp crashed to the floor. 

 

“Gah! Why do you have so much stuff on such a tiny desk! And what is this?” The Doctor asked, holding up the dinosaur origami shaped lamp he’d knocked over. 

 

Keith turned red, not wanting to answer. 

 

“Why are you here? It’s the middle of the night!” he hissed, storming out of bed and turning on the light. The Doctor blinked at the sudden change. He looked the same, Keith grudgingly noticed, as if their separation had made no difference. Keith sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting down on the rumpled covers. The Doctor watched, fiddling with the lamp. 

 

“Put it down.” 

 

The Doctor pouted at him but did so. He then groaned loudly, flapping his arms one, twice. 

 

“I had to think for a few hours, okay? You...confuse me.”

 

“A couple of hours?” Keith ground out, feeling his annoyance rising. 

 

“Yes! You can just kiss someone and pretend it’s all fine, Keith. I had no idea you felt that way and it just...it’s hard, okay? I’m not human, and you are. You only have one verrry short life and a family here on earth. I can’t take that away from you, sending you on some space chase across galaxies when you could be settling down, being happy here.” 

 

“Happy? You think I’m happy here? You think I wasn’t happy with you?” 

 

The Doctor sighed, pacing again. It was making Keith dizzy. 

 

“You seemed happy. You smiled more, more than when we met, and you look so good smiling Keith, you have no idea. You always have my back, you’re a fantastic pilot. I don’t know what I’d do without you, really.” 

 

Keith stood, the words sinking in slowly, making their impression on his emotions. Carefully, he walked forward to meet The Doctor, who was still vibrating with tension. 

 

“I want to stay with you. I kissed you because I feel something so much more than...well more than I’ve ever felt. I love you. I do.”

 

It was the first time he’d really released the words, set them free and flowing. It felt good. A little terrifying, but good to finally let the truth be known. 

 

The Doctor looked at him once, all angular shapes and kind eyes before exhaling and moving forward to rest his head against Keith’s shoulder. Keith, awkwardly at first, unsure what to do, inched his arms up until they were pulling him closer. The Doctor seemed to relax into him as he did. 

 

“It’s not fair on you though.”

 

“Can’t I decide that?” Keith replied, moving to run his hands through the soft strands of hair to his left. The Doctor shivered and Keith grinned at the small victory. 

 

“I guess so. But.. you could change your mind.” 

 

Keith frowned and pulled away. The Doctor stumbled slightly, but Keith kept him close, moving so their foreheads were almost touching, making sure he was paying attention. 

 

“That’s what you’re worried about? That this is just a fun thing for me, that I’ll get bored?” 

 

The Doctor looked away, but Keith could see the worry, clear as day. He was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. 

 

“It’s not about the adventure. I mean, that’s great and I love it, but it’s because it’s you. It’s with you and fighting beside you and protecting you. If it was someone else it wouldn’t be the same, probably would get boring after a while.” 

 

The Doctor has turned back, that smile, the all encompassing, wonderful goofy grin appearing. Now in his stride, Keith continued. 

 

“I can’t promise my feelings will last forever because, well no-one can. But I promise that I love you, and that’s the reason I want this. I want you.” 

 

He was being kissed before he could take a breath, and it was everything he’d hoped their first kiss would have been. The explosive power, investigation and love, so much love just pulling him under in the best way. 

 

They parted, breathing hard. 

 

“We’ll visit, I promise. I can bring you back with just a few hours gone.” 

 

Keith pulled back, crossing his arms over his front. 

 

“Yeah, about that. It’s been three weeks.” 

 

“What!?” The Doctor shrieked, and Keith had to shush him or risk waking Shiro and Adam. Although by this point he was sure they’d probably heard. 

 

“I programmed everything so carefully, I was sure it had been 3 hours!” he whined and Keith couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. He held out his hand. 

 

“It’s okay, Doctor. You’re here now.” 

 

“Lance.” 

 

Keith blinked as The Doctor took his hand. 

 

“Lance,” he repeated with a squeeze of Keith’s fingers. “That’s my name. Well, it wasn’t originally, but it’s one I wish I had. And what I want you to call me.” 

 

“Lance,” Keith tried, rolling the letters on his tongue and pulling The Doc-no,  _ Lance _ in for another kiss. 

 

The both pulled away smiling. 

 

“Alright Samurai, think you can keep up this time?” he said, leading him out of the room. Keith stopped to pick up a bag by the door (he hadn’t been packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice, not at all) before making their way downstairs. 

 

They stopped short of the door when Adam and Shiro appeared in front of it, both looking tired, smiling but Keith could tell they were both unhappy. He let go of Lance’s hand to move towards them. 

 

“So you were going to leave again without saying goodbye?” Shiro began, the hurt clear in every syllable. 

 

“I didn’t want to wake you. I’ve caused enough disruption.” 

 

Shiro exhaled, sounding wounded and Keith was engulfed in a hug before he knew it. 

 

“You’re never a problem, Keith. Never. If you come back in the middle of the night next time, I expect you to wake me.” 

 

Keith pulled away, and really thought he might cry when he saw the look on Shiro’s face. 

 

He turned, and was pulled against Adam just as quickly. 

 

“Take care of Shiro,” he whispered, and Adam nodded. 

 

“I will. You take care of yourself. And come back every so often. Or call. Just let us know you’re okay.” 

 

“I will,” Keith promised, and extracted himself, watching as Adam wiped his eyes. Meanwhile, Shiro was eyeing Lance warily. 

 

“Look after my baby brother. He’s more fragile than he looks.” 

 

“Hey!” Keith called, swiping at Shiro, but Lance nodded seriously. 

 

“I know. Very squishy human, who likes to jump into fights. I’ll try my best.” 

 

Keith groaned but was secretly delighted when Shiro nodded, a small smile on his face. He wanted his alien boyfriend (were they boyfriends? Well, that was for future Keith to worry about) and his brother to get along. 

 

“Shall we go?” he asked, turning to Lance, eyes begging to be let out of this all too emotional conversation. 

 

Lance hopped over, took his hand and then they were running, out of the door and towards the TARDIS parked on the lawn. Keith wondered if Shiro’s neighbours had noticed anything, would say anything tomorrow. 

 

As they reached the door, Lance spun around and kissed him, just once, but perfectly all the same. 

 

“Oh, and I love you too.” 

 

Keith really smiled then, and the door swung open. He took Lance’s hand and walked back inside, back to whatever adventure awaited them next. 

 


	23. Day 25: Neighbours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments, kudos and reading these stories!
> 
> A short and sweet piece for the neighbours prompt. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)

Lance stood, trying to look casual as the woman three doors down shifted her eyes to him. He smiled, gave a wave and huffed, looking at his watch as if waiting for someone to open the door. She eyed him once more before unlocking her own door and stepping inside. 

 

Once the door clicked shut, Lance was back on the floor scrambling around under the mat trying to locate Keith’s spare key. He knew his next door neighbour kept it around here somewhere, had been sure to eye up where he left it last time he was over. 

 

He barely restrained a cry of triumph when he located it, right in the corner attached to a tiny hippo keychain. Lance allowed himself to melt for a second over just how adorable that was, before he quickly slipped the key into the lock, grabbed the flowers he’d left safely by the door and quietly walked inside. 

 

He wasn't sure why he was being stealthy. Keith was at work, would be for the next two hours. But he was technically breaking and entering...well, entering without permission so he couldn’t help being a little sneaky. But it was all for a good cause. Today was six months since Keith had awkwardly asked Lance out for a coffee date, and he was going to mark the day with a surprise small present for his boyfriend when he arrived home from work. 

 

Keith was working long hours all week, and Lance wasn’t sure if he was being too over enthusiastic by celebrating just six months together. He’d been a little unsure whether to ask, feeling sort of stupid for doing so. And with Keith so tired and stressed all the time, he didn't’ want to put any additional pressure on him. So just a nice little gesture seemed like a good plan. 

 

Or it was until Lance walked into the kitchen area to see Keith standing there, spoon of cereal half way to his mouth, looking utterly confused. Also extremely cute, in an oversized jumper than Lance was pretty sure was his, hair all tussled from sleeping. 

 

“Um...Lance?” Keith questioned and yes, his voice was doing that scratching thing it did when he’d just woken up. Adorable. 

 

With that, Lance panicked a little. His surprise plan was ruined and Keith was absolute kryptonite when he was sleepy. So shaking a little, Lance thrust the flowers out towards a very confused Keith, who jumped a little in alarm. 

 

“SurprisehappysixmonthsIloveyou.” 

 

Keith blinked, very, very slowly. He took the flowers, inspecting them, as if trying to identify if they really were just as they seemed. Lance tensed, unsure how to interpret this. Then, Keith lifted his head, smiling brilliantly at Lance. Lance felt his cheeks redden, his own smile matching. Keith always managed to make his heart race with that fond, content look. 

 

“You thought you’d break into my apartment to give me flowers?” he asked, smile not fading. 

 

Lance laughed, shakily. “Well, you weren’t meant to be here. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

 

“My shift got cancelled, so I’ve been sleeping,” he said by way of explanation. 

 

Keith then stood, placing the flowers carefully on the table and stepped forward into Lance’s space. Lance’s hands weaved their way to Keith’s waist, thumbs starting to circle the skin there as he did. Keith moved his arms upward, framed Lance’s face in his hands and pulled him down carefully for a kiss. 

 

A soft kiss, like many of theirs, shared and exchanged with goofy grins, Lance ending up giggling into the kiss. Keith’s hands were almost buried in the sleeves of Lance’s jumper, making Lance’s heart skip all over again. 

 

“Happy six months,” Lance whispered as they parted, kissing Keith’s forehead once. Keith’s cheeks darkened and but he smiled before kissing Lance once again. 

 

“Can’t believe you count that closely,” he said, moving away but keeping a hold of Lance’s hand as he took the flowers from the table over to the sink. 

 

Lance felt worry claw up slowly as he trailed after Keith. 

 

“Is...is that bad?” 

 

Keith turned around, frowning. “No? No, of course not. I like it. I just wasn’t expecting it. Really, Lance. I love it.”

 

Lance smiled, taking in Keith’s happy, calm expression as he sorted through the flowers, ready to put them in a vase. He couldn’t resist moving forward and sweeping in for one more kiss, more heated and thorough than the last. 

 

Keith gasped a little as they parted, eyes cloudy. Lance grinned. 

 

“I love you,” he said. “I’m glad you moved in next door.” 

 

Keith laughed, pushed Lance away with a smile and turned back to the flowers. 

 

“I love you. And I’m glad I moved here too.” 


	24. Day 26: Artists/performers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kind support! :) Can't believe we're close to the end of the month. 
> 
> I was listening to Danse Macabre by Ghost (yes, my music taste is...interesting) when I had this idea. But think of whatever song you like. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!

“I’m so nervous,” Allura muttered, foot tapping against the tiled floor of the dressing room incessantly. Lance rolled his eyes, going back the assortment of bottle on the counter-top. 

 

“I couldn’t tell,” he replied, and Allura threw a tube of mascara at him. Lance spun around, glaring at her. 

 

“Hey! I’m almost done but I can still turn you into a clown. Be nice.” 

 

Allura smirked, the glitter on her face shimmering under the harsh yellow light. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

 

He wouldn’t, and they both knew it, but Lance still shot her glare and said “Try me,” in reply. 

 

Allura laughed, but her face fell soon after, the tapping resuming. Lance signed and walked over, powder and a brush in hand. 

 

“Look up. Last bit and you’re done. I know you like to do your own lipstick.” 

 

Allura obeyed and he dusted the powder on her face, taking in the full look at he did. It was good, the glitter contrasting with the dark eye makeup, the foundation enough to make sure she could be seen under stage lights. Despite their music being metal, Allura always wanted her own flare in her looks, still sticking to her signature pink and white tones when the rest of the band dressed solely in dark colours. She was their lead guitarist, and pretty much stole the show. 

 

Almost, Lance thought to himself, smiling who he’d be going to see next. 

 

“It’s no different than a usual show. You guys are always on top of your game, no matter the venue. Just imagine it’s back home, the usual crowd with me, Hunk and Pidge yelling at you from the bar. I mean, we’ll be doing that anyway, so you don’t have to imagine too much.” 

 

Allura laughed and turned to look fully in the mirror. She smiled brightly, then turned back to Lance. 

 

“I love it.” 

 

“Pfft, of course you do, all my looks are masterpieces.” 

 

Allura continued to smile, and Lance was sent back to being seventeen. Allura’s band had been playing live for the first time, and she’d been shaking so hard she’d drawn all over her face with eyeliner. Lance had dragged her backstage and applied the liquid liner for her and given her a similar pep talk to now. 

 

And then that was it. Every show, he’d do her eyeliner, which moved onto to full make up and, as the band changed and developed, catered looks for all of them for their shows. So here he was, twenty-two and stage make up artist. Or at least, a just graduated one permanently employed by one band. But still, progress. 

 

“If it helps, your fiance spent ten minutes trying to convince me there was something up with his flawlessly straightened hair. So I think you’re not the only one who is nervous.” 

 

Allura snorted at that, shaking her head. She sighed and looked at the door. 

 

“It’s just...we’ve never played anything so big.”

 

Lance moved forward and threw an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her tightly. 

 

“I know, but it’s really time. You’re going to be great. You are always great. And it’s about time you started getting recognised for it. As I said, just think of it like any other show. Enjoy it; part of what makes you all so great to watch is how happy you all look up there.” 

 

Allura looped an arm around his waist and hugged him, mindful of her make up. 

 

“You’ve been talking me down for years, what would I do without you?”

 

“Go on stage with eyeliner all over your face.” 

 

Allura shoved him, and he laughed even as he almost fell over. She smiled though. 

 

“Go, I know you save Keith for last. He’ll get weird if he doesn’t have his good luck kiss.” 

 

Lance almost doubled over laughing. “Oh my god, that was two years ago but it’s still so funny.” 

 

“It really wasn’t, Lance. He almost wouldn’t come on stage, he was convinced he couldn’t sing without it.” 

 

He nearly hadn’t done. They’d had an argument just before going to the gig, and Lance had refused to come back stage to say good luck. Keith had been in such a panic, Lotor had dragged him out of his seat and backstage so the band could actually do their set. Allura had then sternly told them they weren’t allowed to fight before a show in future, and they were both slightly terrified of Allura, so never had. 

 

Lance collected his supplies, gave Allura another wave and thumbs up before leaving and heading down the corridor to Keith’s dressing room. 

 

“Hey babe, make up time!” Lance yelled, banging on the door once. 

 

A beat and then Keith threw the door open, dragging Lance into the room by his arm. Lance yelped, not expecting that. He was pulled in, the door closed behind him and then slammed against it as Keith kissed him hard. 

 

Unexpected, but also on course. Lance groaned, veins immediately alight as he sunk into the fearsome kiss. They’d been together nearly three years now but it still got to Lance each time they did this, the electricity and want never dying down. 

 

They broke away panting, Keith coming to rest his head against Lance’s neck, feeling his pulse jump. 

 

“I’m so nervous, fuck,” Keith muttered and gripped Lance harder. Lance huffed out a laugh and kissed Keith’s hair. 

 

“You don’t need to be. It’s going to be fantastic, you’ve worked so hard to get here. I’m proud of you.” 

 

Keith sighed into him, relaxing as Lance moved to card his hand through Keith’s hair. Lance allowed a few moment of this, before gently pushing him back

 

“Come on, if you want your usual I need to get started now.” 

 

Keith heaved himself off Lance, but held onto his hand as they walked the short distance to the chair in the centre of the room. Lance had somehow managed to keep a hold of the make up case, bringing it up to the table. Unlike with Allura, Lance immediately started laying out the costume makeup supplies. Keith for some reason preferred to do Halloween-esque style makeup, usually a skull. Lance grabbed the white make up as Keith pinned up his hair into a tiny ponytail, then clipped up the strands that wouldn’t reach. Lance just about resisted the urge to coo at how cute his boyfriend was. 

 

Lance pulled a chair out and sat in front of Keith, patting his knee once before getting started. 

 

“I like doing this,” Lance hummed, starting the familiar shapes. Keith snorted, trying  not to move much. 

 

“I should hope so, seeing as it’s what you want to do for a living.” 

 

Lance shook his head, smiling to himself. 

 

“No, I mean I like doing this for you. It’s nice, that you let me. Especially seeing as how you were so resistant to begin with.”

 

Keith frowned. “That was a long time ago. Things were different then.” 

 

Lance hummed. They certainly were. Both at each other's throats, never really getting on, competing at school and anything else they could make into a game. Now he was here, calmly helping Keith get ready for a show, the person he loved more than almost anyone else. 

 

“It was. I just...I’m not a musician. I never have been. And this is so important to you, and I love that. It’s nice that there’s something I can do to be part of it, to support you in some way.” 

 

Keith opened his eyes and Lance frowned, ready to chastise him as he should know better when Keith leaned forward and kissed him. Unlike the previous kiss it was soft, loving, the early morning type kisses that were secretly Lance’s favourite. The ones that say they had everything they need right here, and all the time in the world. 

 

Keith pulled back slightly, but kept his hands on either side of Lance’s face. 

 

“You do so much to support me. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be here without you, Lance. You keep me grounded, and are there at every show, even that time you were so sick you went to the wrong venue. You help all of the band; I bet you’ve talked all of us off the edge tonight. You’re the heart of everything I do. The makeup is just a plus, you’d be more than enough without doing that as well.” 

 

Lance stared, feeling his love for this man try to spill over, so instead he launched himself into Keith, who laughed and pulled him down into his lap. Keith looked incredible, hair pinned up and a half-formed skull on his face, all delight in his eyes and laughed echoing around the room. 

 

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Lance murmured, kissing him deeply. 

 

“I love you, Lance. Now, please finish my make up before I have to go on stage like this.” 

 

Lance grinned, and winked. “Still would look better than when you tried to do it yourself.” 

 

Keith pushed him back to his chair grumbling, but didn’t disagree.

 

* * *

 

The venue was bigger than Lance was used to, so it took him awhile to figure out where Pidge, Hunk and Coran were standing. Coran waved as he approached, and Lance smiled as Pidge handed him a drink. 

 

“Lance, my boy! What a crowd. My niece is doing so well!” Coran yelled, startling several people around them with the volume. 

 

Lance noticed the ear plugs he wore and nodded, toasting him with his drink. 

 

“Err, buddy? Have you looked in the mirror?” 

 

Lance frowned as Pidge cackled with laughed. Then realisation hit. 

 

“Urgg, I’ve got Keith’s makeup on my face, haven’t I? I did see that, forgot to wash it off. Hell, I spoke to Lotor before coming down here, why didn’t he tell me!” 

 

Pidge continued to laugh, while Coran handed him a pack of wet wipes he produced from his bag. Lance wondered why he was carrying them, but then again Coran was the type of person to have all kinds of things with him on a permanent basis ‘just in case.’

 

He’d just finished wiping his face down when the lights dimmed. Hunk and Pidge immediately started screaming, but unlike the nights when they still teenagers, the crowd joined them. Lance smiled widely, looking around at all the people here to see them perform, their hard work paying off. 

 

_ I’m so proud of you  _ he thought to himself, and at the stage as if Keith would somehow be able to hear him. 

 

Then the guitar and drums erupted, the lights coming up in a flash and Lance just stood in shock as people around them started to jump up and down. He even heard a guy to his left scream “hell yeah, I love this song!” and Hunk and Pidge grabbed one of his arms each. 

 

Because this was  _ his _ song. Their opening number on the biggest stage they’d played so far and they were going to sing the song Keith had written about him, back when he’d first realised he liked Lance. 

 

And their Keith stood, centre stage, signature gloves and wild hair, Lance’s makeup look perfectly in place. He grinned widely, then launched into the song, drawing the whole crowd in with him. 

 

Lance started jumping along, the lyrics falling from his lips, heart racing along with the bass. He grabbed both Pidge and Hunk’s hands as they sang, jumping and screaming along, just as they had done every single time. And it still felt just as fantastic, to be here listening to the love of his love do what he loved.  Lance couldn’t have been happier if he’d tried. 


	25. Day 28: AU of choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe the month is over! I also can't believe I wrote over 60K words in a month, my gosh. 
> 
> So, HUGE thank you to all of you for joining me on this. Every kudos, comment and share has meant a lot. 
> 
> I'll be doing a few one shots from the AUs here, and the first chapter of my new story is already up on my profile! I hope some of you will come join me in my future Klance stories. 
> 
> But for now, hope you enjoy this last installment.

Keith was warm, floating. Everything blurred at the edges, soft and comfortable. That place, that wonderful slither between dreams and waking, a stop off somewhere that was one foot in reality and another somewhere else. 

 

He felt a kiss, a small one, a whisper against skin. Keith smiled and the warmth increased as he was wrapped up in arms he fit into just so. 

 

“I was dreaming about you.” 

 

A soft sigh, lips against his ear. 

 

“What did you dream?” 

 

Keith wanted to stretch, revel in the feeling of being encased somewhere so precious and mystical, wanted to cling onto the strands of a dream and fall back, softly. But the arms tightened, another gentle kiss making him aware he’d stepped just far enough into waking to be able to answer. 

 

“You were a mermaid. You drowned me.” 

 

Laughter caressing through his soul, his own smile growing as Lance curled into him, unsure where either of them began. Keith felt himself sinking, dipping back into the murky places of his own creation, where imagination ruled and his mind run riot. 

 

“What else?” 

 

Keith grinned, so lost in the many ways he could and would think of Lance. 

 

“I learned from you, you taught me yoga.  I surprised you; was far away and came back for you. We were friends as kids, and we fell in love. You were an alien and left me, then came back. We drove together through a futuristic city. ” 

 

Lance was laughing still, a melody written just for Keith. Keith slowly felt himself waking, felt himself clawing at something else. 

 

“Shh, sleep.” 

 

Lance, his Lance willing him back down. Words of a memory, so many things he’d never said. Words that dissolved to haphazard letters on his tongue. 

 

“I think we died.” 

 

“We aren’t dead, Keith. I’m right here.” 

 

Keith frowned, because that wasn't quite right. But he was so tired, Lance so inviting and he just needed to sleep. To dream again, for just a bit longer. 

 

“You were always there. Each time, in some way. You’re always there.” 

 

He could imaging the smile now, that look of joy, the small quirk of lips that belonged on Lance. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it. Why was that? 

 

If he slept, perhaps it would appear again. 

 

So Keith let himself sleep. Let himself be cocooned in fantasy, in the worlds they had together. 

 

“Of course I was. It’s the same for me, you know. I gave you coffee. Rescued you from a curse, and you rescued me right back. You’re my soulmate, Keith.”  

 

Lance was almost a whisper now, and but Keith could feel each syllable as a brand in his body and mind. A promise painted on skin, a tattoo in the centre of his being. 

 

He clung on, hoping against everything he’d remember this. That wherever and whenever he woke up, he’d do something. Change the world, set it right in the way he’d seen so many times. Lance was there, still within his grasp, just one, two steps away. And Lance still murmured to him, chances carried by the wind. 

 

“In every reality, I reach for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading my somewhat cheesy ending! 
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/) and [Tumblr](http://enlacinglineswrites.tumblr.com). Feel free to come and say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)
> 
> I'm brand new so please do come say hi and yell about Klance with me.


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